I'm AWOL for two weeks and get replaced by a cheap computer. Charming.
Tis true, I have been reading Ian's novel, but the reason for my absence has been much more prosaic. Work. Lots of it. Big dents made. Chin up. Top lip stiff, what. Normal service resuming...
Talking of Ian's book--which he terms a 'technothriller'--it's interesting how many parallels can be drawn between it and ours. Both are set in modern day. (Well, his is in 2003, but you know what I mean), and both have something sciency and untoward going on. Though his science is probably a tad stronger than ours. And both have one naive young woman for a protagonist who has a complicated connection to a much haughtier and ostensibly more clued-up partner. And there are superhuman killings a-plenty. And both books dash about the globe as if it's much smaller than it is. All we need is a manifesto and by jove we have a movement, albeit an unpublished one.
No penguins in Ian's book though. Sorry, Tim.
Friday 10 October 2008
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4 comments:
Are you complaining about Bernard already? Sheesh.
Why don't we call it 'No penguins' and generate column inches all over the place as critics try to finger out what penguins have to do with anything?
What don't penguins have to do with it?
Deep.
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