Wednesday, April 24, 2013
I had intended to finish it three or four weeks ago, but then life happened.
I finished it not five minutes ago. Here's what I think.
This book has two things going against it, right off the bat.
1. Written in first person.
2. More character driven than plot driven.
These things don't matter to some people, I tend to not like books like this.
That said, I would find myself burning through the pages. If nothing else, the book is well written, though the proofreader in me found four? mistakes and as a baptized disciple of the AP Style, I cringed at the use of ellipses.
Mere quibbles, all these.
On a scale of buy, borrow, or burn, this book is a borrower for me, and the reason boils down to personal taste.
What we have is collection of stories surrounding the owner of an old hotel-turned-practice-space-for-musicians. The stories are told as memoirs and occur sequentially. A thin narrative runs through the whole book, that of the narrator reconciling and coming to terms with his past. There are also some supernatural elements tossed in. Sometimes it feels the slightest bit schizophrenic, but it is interesting and the stories never seem to drag.
While reading Pete's Garage, I also finished Salem's Lot and a Dean Koontz book that I can't be bothered to remember. Comparisons are inevitable.
Pete's Garage ranks below the Lot, and worlds ahead of the Koontz book.
Let Alexis write three or four more books, and at the very least, he'll be well on his way to creating something truly awesome.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
So, the previous post still rings true, but also for the last week, I've been working on a Thing that pays Money, but required me to labor for 13ish hours a day, which left little time for blagging.
Also, I've become addicted to Sisters of Mercy. Pity me.
In RPG related bullshit:
The Burning Meadows campaign in which I was a player has wrapped up. This is probably the second or third time that I've actually seen a game all the way to its end. My character survived, as did his companion, the city was saved, and he became a landed knight-errant. Not an oxymoron. Shut up.
In my head, he marries the daughter of a hill tribe chieftain and they have children and adventures.
The scroll-wheel on my mouse just broke. Fuck.
Also, "blagging" is not a typo. Fuck you.
I've been drinking.
I will soon be running a game! *GASP*
This means I must begin Thinking, a dangerous prospect in any age. The players will be in that weird dimension-hopping setting I once described, so I must bend my mind's eye to the Land of Grot where they will begin their exercise in frustration and torment. Because RPG's are just like sex.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
...but I got laid off at some point in the recent past.
While in theory, this would provide more time than ever to wax poetic about playing pretend, the reality is that the lack of a fixed schedule has made the days and nights run together, time and space become a mystery.
I've been too busy doing nothing to do anything and have literally lost track of time.