Book List: November/December 2014

17. American Gods by Neil Gaiman
18. Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman

Prior to these, the only Gaiman I'd really read were one Sandman story and Good Omens, which he co-wrote with Terry Pratchett. Between those and the high praise I'd heard from others, I knew I was in for some good reading.

And boy, was I. There is so much going on in these books, and all of it great--comedy, darkness, folklore, and just generally kick-ass writing. I doubt there's anything I could say that you haven't already heard about Gaiman...unless nobody has told you to read him. In which case, do that. I don't know if I'd put him as high on the "READ NOW" list as Bradbury, but he's on there.

This was the last of three B&N hardcovers I got for my birthday last year. Now I just have to read the ones I picked up for my birthday this year.


19. The Disappearing Spoon by Sam Kean

"Here's a book of stories about various elements and the periodic table!" I know, you're excited too. It actually was pretty interesting, as many elements have interesting histories, both in their discovery and the things they were used for. (South Dakota's own!) Sam Kean does a good job of taking these stories and making them fun to read.

After finishing this, I was only down to one more book that my sister gave me. I'm about a hundred pages or so into that one as of this writing.


20. The Time Machine by H.G. Wells
21. The Island of Doctor Moreau by H.G. Wells
22. The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells

Back to the B&N hardcovers! This one has seven Wells stories--two I was familiar with but had never read, two I hadn't read since middle school, and three I'd never heard of. I haven't made it very far into the book...not sure if it's not holding my interest, or I'm just not in a reading mood.

I was fairly familiar with The Time Machine, as I watched part of a movie version once. Turns out they added quite a bit to pad out the plot, because the story is really short. Still, it's a good sci-fi tale, and the epilogue has some sappy hopefulness that I enjoy.

Wasn't quite as enamored with the Island of Doctor Moreau. The premise is interesting, but there just doesn't seem to be a whole lot to it. I guess it's relying on the reader being horrified by Moreau's crimes against nature...but man, I've got the internet. I see a dozen more disturbing things before I finish my coffee. It probably helps to look at it in comparison to other pieces from the time.

The Invisible Man holds up better. It helps that, unlike the first two, it's mostly told as a standard written story rather than a flashback; the first two read like someone's long-winded story of their vacation to Fucking Crazyland. There is an extended "this is how it all happened to me" part, and things kind of slow down...but as Diana Rigg once said, "It's plot exposition; it has to go somewhere."

Book List: July-Oct 2014

15. Never Unprepared: The Complete Game Master's Guide to Session Prep by Phil Vecchione

My friend Steve told me about this one, as I'd been looking to run an RPG came/campaign for a while. A lot of it is just sort of general overview on how to be more prepared, but later in the book there's a few concrete details and methods on how to set up your game.

I did not use any of these, of course, and I think my players can attest to that. But in case I ever want to actually prepare, I know where to find information on that sort of thing.

16. River of Doubt by Candice Millard

One of my few forays into non-fiction, River of Doubt details Teddy Roosevelt's exploration of an uncharted river in the Amazon. It took me a while to get through it, as I got into one of my "not in the mood to read" moods for a while. When I was able to stay focused on it, I was treated to a fascinating struggle of man vs. nature, and often times man vs. man. Almost everything that could go wrong did, and yet somehow the majority of the expedition managed to survive (though not without cost, as the injuries and infections Roosevelt acquired led to his death a few years later.)

Some of the most interesting moments came when the book switched to the perspective of the Cinta Larga tribe, who inhabited the region. It was revealed later in the book that the expedition was such a momentous event that it became part of their oral history.

(This book was a Christmas gift from my aunt, who specializes in awesome Christmas gifts.)

30: Accounts Closed (Donovan Price)

Donovan went to the wall and stopped in front of the portrait of his great-grandfather, Archibald Price. He carefully took it down, revealing a hidden safe with a small camera. He held still until the camera finished scanning his iris, and the safe popped open.

He reached inside and removed a very large, very old ledger, and set it on his desk. Donovan carefully leafed through it, taking note of all the items that had been struck out with red lines. At long last, he came to a page with an unmarked item. “Xian Street Shelter Fire,” it read.

Donovan turned back to his computer screen and checked the spreadsheet. Eventually he found a listing for “Father Xian Missions,” with an outstanding balance of $472.59--well under this month's donation, he thought. He took a red pen from his desk and carefully struck through the corresponding line on the ledger.

He flipped through a few more pages, but didn't find any more unmarked items before coming across a thick, black line that divided a page horizontally. The last listed item before that line was in 1942, the year of Archibald Price's death.

Price touched a button on his desk phone. “Sandra?” he said, not waiting for an answer. “Phase out the donation to the Father Xian Missions, and keep it quiet. Start one up in the same amount for the Educational Renovation Project.” He pressed the button again to hang up, then returned the ledger to its place in the safe.

Once the safe closed, he did not return the portrait of his great-grandfather to its original place. Instead Donovan carried it to a closet, where he switched it with another, somewhat more recent portrait in a thick frame. This one he hung on the wall over the safe, and he found himself staring into the iron-gray eyes of his grandmother, Virginia Price.

Donovan sighed as he stared at her. She seemed more domineering in the portrait than she had in life, if such a thing was possible. Her hard face would be keeping watch over the office for a long time.

After her, there were still three more portraits in that closet. If he lived long enough, he could pay for all their sins.

Then he would have to find a way to pay for his own...

29: Shining a Light (Donegan Lighthouse)

DONEGAN LIGHTHOUSE

Built in 1855, the Donegan Lighthouse has been a key point in Northern California coastal navigation. In 1856, its warnings saved two ships from disaster during a storm, and summoned the townspeople to provide aid for a third that was unable to avoid the rocks. No lives were lost, and the event fostered a sense of unity among the original Chinese and Irish settlers.

Today, it is one of only two manned lighthouses in the nation.

California Registered Historical Landmark No. 121

Plaque placed by the State Department of Parks and Recreation in cooperation with the Price County Historical Society, August 20, 1976.

Arthur Donegan frowned a little whenever he walked past that plaque. He knew he should be proud of it, but there were three things that always bothered him.

First, it really should be a national landmark by now.

Second, there was no mention of his ancestor Brian Donegan, who built the lighthouse and operated it for thirty years.

Third was the glaring factual error. Yes, there had been a terrible storm; yes, two of the three ships were saved by his great-great-great-grandfather's actions; yes, he was also able to summon the others to provide aid to the third ship's victims.

In 1853. Two years before the lighthouse was built.

28: Cry For Help (Dr. Walter Hausfeld)

Dr. Walter Hausfeld scratched a few words onto his notepad. October 12, afternoon session. Carlisle, Dwight. He looked up at his patient, a scowling thirty-year-old man in prison grays, seated in a folding chair. For some reason, Dwight refused to even sit on the couch.

“Dwight, I'd like to start with--” he began, before Carlisle interrupted.

“It's Loudmouth.”

“...of course. Loudmouth, I'd like to start with a question. Why are you so angry?”

“I dunno. Probably because you're such a dipshit.”

Dr. Hausfeld sighed. His sessions with Carlisle were always difficult—Dwight tended to start with insults, and then stay there. Worse was that he seemed to do it reflexively, as if he didn't need to think about it at all. The doctor once asked Dwight about his preference for abuse over conversation, and Dwight told him to “take the train to Fuck You Junction.”

“I want you to listen to something.” Dr. Hausfeld pulled up an audio file on his computer. “I trust you're familiar with Signora Soprano?”

“Yeah, I watch the news.”

“Recently, someone was able to record her sonic cry in action without completely destroying their equipment. With careful editing, they managed to filter out its destructive qualities, as well as reducing the volume and pitch to something the human ear can handle.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Loudmouth making the “jerk off” hand gesture. “Anyway,” he said, “let's take a listen.”

The doctor played the clip, which was a female voice hitting a high C note and holding it for almost a minute. While there were slight vibrato flourishes, it was otherwise pitch perfect. Dr. Hausfeld, being a fan of the opera, had to wipe away a tear, and even Loudmouth was impressed (though of course he'd never say so.)

“Impressive, no? Now, here's another recording.” He pulled up a second file and played it.

The difference was like night and day. This new voice was guttural, jagged, and ugly in every sense. The pitch fluctuated wildly, completely out of control, and even though it was nowhere near the edges of vocal range, it was still painful to listen to.

Whereas the first voice was singing...this one was screaming.

“What the fuck was that?” Loudmouth asked.

“That,” the doctor replied, “was you.”

Loudmouth sat back down in his chair, a look of shock on his face. Walter Hausfeld leaned forward over his desk, his fingers steepled.

“So I'll ask you again, Mr. Carlisle. Why are you so angry?”

27: Man Down (Jane Haddix)

Jane Haddix stood up from her desk and looked through the glass door of her office. She saw a sea of blue uniforms—far more than usual, and probably more than were on duty—clustered around a television set.

She silently opened the door and found a place where she could observe. The other officers were watching a news broadcast.

“The dust is starting to clear,” the reporter said. “It looks like—yes! It's down! The monstrosity is down!”

A cheer went through the station house; every voice in the room contributing...except one. Haddix was too busy thinking about what it was like before the Cowboy showed up. Back when the police were expected to handle everything...and they could. When the biggest threats were the gangs...and the Poolhall Gang hadn't started using powers yet.

“I can't see the Cowboy yet, but it does all our hearts good to know that he has stepped up once again when the city needed him...”

Not that you asked us for help, Haddix thought. To be fair, maybe a twenty-foot-tall alien monster wasn't the best test of the police force. But it was also the kind of thing they wouldn't have to deal with if this were a normal city. Normal cities also didn't have people like Hooligan or Clockwise or the Black Hats...

She knew she wasn't being fair, but it wasn't a fair situation. In her time as chief of police, Haddix had seen the BCPD go from one of the best in the country to obsolete and complacent. They were still highly trained, but they hadn't had a real test in years. They just expected the hick in the stupid hat to do everything for them.

“Hold on, I'm just getting word that...oh...oh, no...Tracy, can you get a shot of this?” The news camera focused on some EMTs picking through the rubble, and a man lying on the ground. What energy there had been in the room quickly vanished.

“Early reports state tell us that the Cowboy is seriously injured, bleeding heavily, and may not--” The reporter's voice cracked. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, it's just...please, not this...”

Jane Haddix looked around the station house, and saw disbelief and despair on the faces of her fellow officers. One of the rookies looked like he was about to cry.

“What does this mean?” one of them whispered. Finally, Haddix spoke up.

“It means you're going to have to learn how to be cops again,” she said dryly. “Get back to work.”

26: Walk Through (Inside Man)

“Make a shot, dammit!” Larry Green yelled at the screen--the only one in the room not related to his job. “If the Yellowjackets cost me money again...”

Aaron McReynolds glanced at the clock. “It's seven. Time to make the rounds.”

“Is it?” Larry looked up from the basketball game. “Shit. Game'll be over by the time we get back.”

Aaron shrugged. “Last set was quiet. Why don't I just go solo?”

Larry raised an eyebrow. Aaron never offered to do that—usually, it was Larry who had to do it by himself. But he wasn't about to pass this up. “Knock yourself out, man.”

Aaron left the security room, making sure he had his badge, flashlight, and radio handy. Then, he headed straight to the elevator.

---

On the third floor, Amanda Friedman rubbed her eyes and walked to her office. She was almost there when a voice called to her.

“Burning the midnight oil again, Friedman?” It was Bill Jorgenson, from accounting. He was leaning against the doorway across the hall.

“Something like that,” Amanda called back. “How about you?”

“Money never sleeps,” he replied.

“Neither does our boss, it seems.”

“Maybe if you didn't spend so much time hitting on that redhead in Sales, you'd get your work done by five.”

Amanda smiled. “Maybe. But then I wouldn't be taking her for drinks on Friday.”

“Touché,” Bill said, and saluted her with his coffee mug. “Have a good one.”

“You too,” Amanda tapped her badge against the security panel on her office door. Once inside, she turned on her computer and plugged a flash drive into a USB port.

She left the room, and saw that Bill was still there. “Done already?” he asked.

“Just forgot something in the car.” She went back to the elevator.

---

On the fifth floor, Jacob Cassuto poked at his tablet as he entered the server room. He came across one of his coworkers, who was napping. “Dude, it's, like...after seven.”

Jim Cooper snorted and woke up. “Wha?”

“Go home, man.”

“Can't. Wife kicked me out again. Why are you here?”

Jacob shook his head. “One of the suits downstairs is having some kind of connection problem.”

“Just download Adobe Reader. That's what I always do.”

“I think they're onto us with that one, man. Anyway, I can fix it. Shouldn't take long.”

Jacob plugged his tablet into a server and did some tapping and swiping. After about ten minutes, he was done.

“Got it. See you later, Jim. Get a hotel...and a shower.”

“Mrff,” Jim said as he rolled over. Jacob shook his head and walked away.

---

A man left the elevator and walked into the parking garage, smiling at a job well done. The information he acquired would command a large paycheck. Sure, the company might find out that Aaron, Amanda, and Jacob were part of the theft, but that didn't matter.

They didn't really exist.