Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Books ‘n’ Authors
Better than the book
I have a confession: I never finished reading the graphic novel, V for Vendetta. The novel loses steam after Evey’s imprisonment, so I suspect some other book from my TBR pile snagged my attention, and V went unfinished.
After seeing the movie, though, my curiosity got the better of me. I had to see why Alan Moore was so tweaked by the screenplay that he refused to have his name associated with the movie. By the end of the novel, I had gnashed my teeth to bloody stumps —
Okay, that’s hyperbole. Still, V for Vendetta (the graphic novel) made me think about the few times where the movie improves upon the book.
Le petit mort, redux
You know what I want to know?
Why is this woman wearing her glasses?
Yeah, you guessed it, I’m hanging out at Beautiful Agony again.
If my blog brings one more client to Beautiful Agony, I’ll get a month of free orgasm videos. Wouldn’t that be the coolest thing, not just for me, but for all of us? Think of the blogging splendor you will have. A full month of sexual snarkiness. It could be special.
Okay, story time. On the last Smart Bitches Day, Kate was bemoaning the lack of pirate romance, so Beth posted this great snippet. I asked my billing person, Catrina, whether she knew of any pirate romances. Catrina reads romance novels — lots more than I do.
“The Captive series by Fern Michaels,” she said, and since I was ordering Laura Kinsale’s The Shadow and the Star anyway, I picked up what I thought was the first Captive book, Captive Embraces. Turns out I got #2. Why am I always doing that?
Damn, thought I, now I’ll have to go buy #1 so I can read them in order. But it occurred to me, maybe I ought to look at this one to see if I even like Ms. Michael’s style.
Mmm, not so much. The novel opens with a love scene. From page 2,
Each of her senses was heightened and filled by this man who could make her feel as though she’d never known another lover, who could make her believe she was created for his pleasure alone and, in giving that pleasure to him, find her own.
But I’m not one to pass on a book after two pages. Oh, no. I have to give it three.
Together they spun over the threshold of sensuality into the universe, whirling on a roll of thunder and blinded by a flashing bolt of rapture.
I can’t make this stuff up.
Today, I told Catrina, “Um, that Fern Michaels book? Sucks. Opens up with this sex scene where they come together, only she doesn’t say they come together, only some bullshit about spilling over into alternate universes and shit.”
“You were asking for pirate romances,” she said. “I never said it was any good. I couldn’t even finish the first one.”
Now she tells me.
But, it’s not all a waste, since Catrina indirectly gave me an idea for my next Smart Bitches Day post: the orgasm in literature.
Suggestions appreciated. This weekend, email me your favorite orgasm passages, and I’ll work them into what I hope will be a fine contribution to SBD. That email addy again:
azureus
at
harborside
dot
com
Later tonight, I hope: my review of V is for Vendetta.
D.
What’s in a word?
It’s Smart Bitches Day today. For your SBD, I’d like you to consider the English language’s second-most mercurial word (next to fuck), love. (more…)
New York Times Sunday: the goods
Balls and Walnuts reads the New York Times so you don’t have to. (more…)
V for Vendetta
Oh, delicious:
James Wolcott has posted his review of Alan Moore’s V for Vendetta. Check the official website for trailers.
“People should not be afraid of their government. Government should be afraid of the people.”
I’m paranoid enough to think saying this will put my name on a list somewhere, but, hot damn, I can’t wait.
D.
A star-studded golden shower
Isn’t it ironic that I’m stunned, blinded-in-the-headlights by a woman who makes her living deriding the famous and wealthy, who has written at length on the soul-raping effects of fame?
Well, maybe not ironic. I’m enamored of Cintra Wilson because of her writing, not her fame, since after all she’s not particularly famous. Hell, Maureen Dowd probably has much greater name recognition, but I’d take dinner with Wilson over Dowd any day of the week. Sorry, Maureen.
In the February 8-21 issue of The Wave Magazine, in her column The Dregulator, Cintra writes:
Paris Hilton has apparently been leaving her territorial mark anywhere she feels like it — just because she feels like it — and she can do anything she wants — so there. The New York Post reported in October that Paris had an “accident” in the corridor of a Las Vegas hotel. And a couple of weeks ago, Mike Walker of The Enquirer wrote, Maui cab driver Harden Jamison picked up Miss Piss late one night with Greek man-o-kopeta Stavros Niarchos. While he drove, Jamison claims, the heiress hiked up her blue satin dress and relieved herself on his back seat. Jamison had the good fortune to serendipitously run into Paris the next night, and he confronted her. She whined outraged denials. Jamison reportedly screamed, “I kept the towel . . . I’VE GOT THE DNA!” One of her entourage allegedly tried to buy him off for $200.
Tangent Online reviews . . .
For what it’s worth, my reviews are up:
“Different Flesh” by Claude Lalumière (but you might also want to check out PBW’s comments, below).
Top of the page at Tangent, you’ll find E. Sedia’s review of Apex #4, and Paul Abbamondi’s review of Shadowed Realms #9.
Also, many thanks to Hedgehog and SxKitten for telling me how to show off my ass to best advantage. They don’t teach these things in school.
D.
Somebody kidnappable
Somebody Wonderful by Kate Rothwell
It is true that I made Karen read this book first. Because, you know, my wife’s a chick, forty tarantulas notwithstanding, and chicks know romance. “Here, you read this,” I said, and Karen plowed through it in a day.
It’s also true I only picked up Somebody Wonderful to see if Kate knew how to write something other than a blog. By the third or fourth page, I was in a state approaching awe. I was reading a romance . . . and I liked it!
Finally, it is true that I would be reluctant to give a friend’s book anything but a glowing report. So you’re probably wondering if you can trust this review.
You’d do better to wonder about the worth of a review written by a guy who has only ever read two other romances, both of which had paranormal mishegas — Holly Lisle’s Last Girl Dancing, and Lilith Saintcrow’s The Society. Despite my shameless pandering to the romance crowd, I’m really a romance virgin.
Or, you know, whatever it is you call those girls who do it a few times and then wear white gowns at their weddings.
Reading, riting, but no ‘rithmatic.
Don’t know about you, but I’ve had a productive day.
After a satisfying bit of Technorati whoring (see post below), I spent the morning shuffling scenes and chapters in order to create a Book Two. Working title: Flight. The trilogy will be Nest, Flight, and Shrike. Book Two will pack even more of a cliffhanger than Book One, I’m afraid, but I suspect if folks stick with me that far, they’re in it for the long haul.
Flight will be a tougher edit than Nest, with more scenes to add and subtract (maybe I will work in some ‘rithmatic yet!) and quite a bit of gruntwork with regard to one of my major storylines. I’ve fixed some problems in my head, but I still need to fix them on paper. Or, as we used to say in med school, “in computero.” What fun.
Next, I reviewed a cool story for Tangent, “Different Flesh” by Claude Lalumière. If you don’t want to wait for my review to show up at Tangent, I give high marks to “Different Flesh”. Go. Read it. Enjoy.
Good, you’re back. I finished up some laundry, then burned a box of Nature magazines from ’97. Slowly but surely, I’m cleaning out our garage. Charged up by my pyromania, I finished my other assignment for Tangent, Amityville House of Pancakes. Now I just have to write the reviews. Verdict: of the four stories, one is meh, one is godawful, one is good, and one is so great I went online and bought the author’s first novel.
Her name is Adrienne Jones, and her novella for AHP, Gypsies Stole My Tequila, rawked. I read lines out loud to Karen, that’s how good it was. For more details, you’ll have to wait for my review. But Tequila was so good I bought Jones’s Oral Vices, and paid hardcover prices for a paperback (what’s up with that?), so you can bet I’m going to review it here, good or bad.
And since I can’t order only one book from Barnes and Noble, I also bought Mel Helitzer’s Comedy Writing Secrets. Because, you know, making y’all spray your monitors with coffee isn’t good enough for me. I want you to piss your pants, too.
D.