I’m back from a mini vacation in San Francisco, and surprise! Books were involved. The first thing that happened was pretty much the universe taunting me. DH and I were walking down an extremely steep hill, from the top of Nob Hill down to Fisherman’s Wharf, and what did I see, sitting by an industrial dumpster? Only the most perfect bookshelf I’ve seen in ages: light wood, 18 inches wide by 12 deep, adjustable shelves. Why I had to happen across this when, for once, I am without my vehicle, I dunno. Fate is very cruel.

The second thing is not unusual for the inhabitants of Chez Bee: We went to Stacey’s Books and wielded the credit card. I have a copy of “The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill,” autographed by the author. So far he has impressed me as a whiny dharma bum hippie who can’t move his life forward until he has decided what his perfect job might be. After you’re forty, this is just sad. I think hereafter I will skip all paragraphs describing his inner journey and just enjoy the antics of the cherry headed conures. DH was impressed by seeing “Master and Commander” and wants to read about seafaring in the age of wooden sailing ships, so now he has a book about John Paul Jones. I thought he was a member of Led Zeppelin, but apparently he also had something to do with founding the American Navy and talked to Ben Franklin and stuff.

JavaCat, I am glad to hear you are enjoying “Red Thunder.” I thought it was great fun. Readers, this fine John Varley book is now available in paperback, and I exhort thee: Go forth and read about the kids who built a rocket and went to Mars, OK?

I love that cover art for “We Have Always Lived in the Castle.”

John Varley! "Titan"! Oh, man, did I adore that book, and I generally read very little scifi. But he was so visual, and I loved his women characters.

Jilli, I am with you. I'm starting a vampire book (working title is "The Burden of Memory") as soon as I'm done with "Matty Groves" and the only thing anomoly will be that they've "lived" long enough to know that it's safer to leave their dinner alive and a bit fuddled as to what actually happened than it is to invoke hunts and searches by being too greedy.

I'm starting a vampire book (working title is "The Burden of Memory")

Oooh! Um, er ... need a beta reader?

need a beta reader?

Yes please. I was going to ask you about it next week; BTW (off topic for a moment), I'll be picking you up at the airport, and I'm thinking I will rub up a chicken, with citrus olive oil, crushed garlic and herbs, and roast it for dinner.

Oh, SO not fair. Jilli gets to read AND eat citrus herbed chicken. At Deb's. Curse this right-coastedness.

Bev, we'll see about sneaking you out here when Nilly's out here too. I foresee a raucous music-laden jamboree, er, I mean, a dignified literary cocktail party.

Mmmm.... citrus herb chicken with garlic. IJS.

Also, the whole dead thing? Very important. (re Jilli's vampire rant.)

Also, the whole dead thing? Very important. (re Jilli's vampire rant.)

Also important re: citrus herb chicken.

Totally (re the vampires). Mine are certainly going to be dead (or formerly dead, now undead); the woman was one of the last victims of Elizabeth Bathory's pet henchwoman, and she herself turned her male companion in a grubby alley near the Bastille during the Terror.

They can NOT go out in sunlight. They don't eat cheeseburgers. They aren't cute. They also aren't stupid, because I have this idea that writers who offer up creatures who have successfully survived for the equivalent of five human lifetimes and are portrayed as dimwits? OUght to be nibbled to death by ducks.

edit: oh, and the chicken? Dead first, as well. Much easier to pluck that way.

double-edit: GINGER! Thank you for an intelligent, well-thought out Amazon review!