(no subject)

cleolinda is currently reading and recapping Varney the Vampyre (or the Feast of Blood) and I have been reading those recaps. And now I am torn. Part of me keeps thinking "Hurrah - she is reading it so I don't have to," because Varney the Vampyre (or the Feast of Blood) is like the Mount Everest of trashy 19th century vampire fiction and is immensely long and kinda awful. And part of me thinks "Y'know, you've sort of meant to read that since you were nine and came across a reference to it in one of the numberless books about vampires you read at that age and now is as good a time as any. Also, it is already on your kindle." Because Varney the Vampyre (or the Feast of Blood) is like the Mount Everest of trashy 19th century vampire fiction - it's a hell of a slog, but think how proud you'd be if you managed it.

Also, then you get to tell people that you've read Varney the Vampyre (or the Feast of Blood). Ninety-nine percent of them will look at you like you've grown another head, but that remaining one percent will be extremely impressed.

And the title is ridiculously fun to say. It's almost as good as Hell Comes to Frogtown.

I have been craving vampires the last few days, I think. Usually when that happens, I try to scout around for modern vampire novels that I haven't read that might be satisfying. It hardly ever works. This time, I think that I will try Varney and see if the 19th century does any better. And if that doesn't work, I can try House of the Vampire again, because I liked that one but got distracted in the middle.

...and then I googled House of the Vampire to make sure I got the title right and ended up wandering through "Customers who bought this also bought" on amazon and found Richard Marsh's The Beetle and Marie Corelli's Ziska: The Problem of a Wicked Soul, both of which sound amazing. And which are now on my kindle also.

I have horror-related impulse control problems.

And now, off to my staff meeting!

(no subject)

So, The Beetle. I am four and a half chapters in. So far, we've had:

- A giant creepy bug with glowing eyes crawling up the narrator's body and onto his face

- A creepy hypnotic person (the narrator is as yet unsure whether this person is male or female) with huge eyes and no apparent chin

- Creepy person uses some kind of mind control to force the narrator to strip and then makes creepy comments about how nice the narrator's skin is.

- Creepy person then paralyzes the narrator and leaves him lying, essentially naked, on the floor all day. In the evening, s/he comes back and pokes the narrator all over, putting hir fingers in the narrator's mouth and touching the narrator's eyes.

- Also, the creepy person may actually be the bug thing. I'm not sure about that yet.

- Now the creepy person is telling the narrator to break into a prominent statesman's house. These orders are accompanied by random non-sequiters about how the statesman is "good to look at". I don't know what the narrator is supposed to do in the statesman's house yet but I doubt it's going to be simple burglary.

This is a weird little book.

(no subject)

Today has been long and stupid.

First, there was an extra-long (and mildly depressing) staff meeting. Though, plus side, there was exciting food.

Then there was work. Which was not bad or anything, but just kinda draggy and boring and blah.

Then I left work, ate the quickest dinner in the history of ever, and went to church to practice for the stupid Christmas pageant. The problem, I think, is that the woman running the pageant a) greatly overestimated the musical ability of the praise team and b) doesn't actually know that much about music. Which is fine - I'm in no way saying that everyone needs to know things about music. There is a lot about music that I don't know. But I find that non-musical people tend to think that the ability to read music grants a person magical abilities, like the ability to learn six or seven pieces with complicated rhythms and multiple key changes and not completely predictable melodies in two weeks. And she thought that we could all read music. (For the record - two out of five of us can. One of those is me. Neither of us is magical.)

It's not going to be a debacle, I don't think, but it's not going to be terribly good either. I don't think we're going to look like complete idiots - it's the children's service, people aren't going to care that much if it's not good - but I find that my sense of professionalism is somewhat offended. I hate the idea of sucking when I know I could do better if I had been given enough time to prepare.

So, yes. A long and stupid day. Now it is over, and I am going to watch mindless television and do something crafty. That will make me feel better.