I got up and swam this morning, which I think was Quite Noble, given that it’s a real proper true day off. When I got home, Ted declared it was Moving Day, and so, er, I sat in the living room and read a book while he moved the computer room up to the Back Forty and moved my office down to the original computer room, and did a vast amount of tidying and vacuuming and cleaning associated with those actions, and indeed has now gone off into the wilds of Longford to get lightbulbs for the uplighters so the Back Forty won’t be all dark and gloomy. He is simply a Hero, so he is. Over the weekend we’ll put up art (in both rooms, hopefully!) and I’ll get all my research books and Rogues moved downstairs, and then I’ll have Brand New Surrounds to write SPIRIT DANCES in. That will be extremely keen!
The book I read was a relatively new urban fantasy, CHILD OF FIRE, by (I believe debut) author Harry Connolly*. It was a damned fine book. The world setup is unique, the story, while obviously part of a larger setup, is nicely self-contained, and the main character is–get this–male, and written by a male. I really enjoyed it, which is rather nice given that it’s the FIRST BOOK I’VE READ THIS YEAR. Augh.
The cats are informing me I’ve been derelict in my duties and must feed them dinner now. Ted, who is back from getting lightbulbs, further informs me that if I do that, he will then feed me dinner, so clearly my roster is set. *scurries off* :)
*I cannot quite convince myself that Harry Connolly is not himself fictional. I see his name and my wee little brain immediately takes Michael Connolly and his detective character Harry Bosch and fssh, there you go, ‘Harry Connolly’ is clearly fictional. He write a hell of a good book for a fictional guy, though. :)(x-posted from the essential kit)