This week’s theme is villains! Instead of picking out favourite specific villains, I’m going for lists of things that make good villains (you know what I mean)! Or, if not good villains, then villains that I find interesting.

1. They don’t just hate everyone. There are people and causes they care about; there are reasons for why they do what they do. Especially good is if they have people that care about them, who might not deserve the pain of losing them. Tasty conflict for all!
2. They’re not just mentally ill. Half of the time it’s just a lazy way out anyway, and it’s also an excuse to stereotype mental illness, etc.
3. They have a sense of humour. I’m sorry, I’m a sucker for a snarky bad guy.
4. They have a cause, and it may even be a good one. Bring on the moral complexity! Someone going about something that’s worth doing, but doing it in the wrong way? Yeaaah, works for me.
5. You can understand them. If they have a stupid grudge from a minor accident they had as a child, you can’t sympathise with that. The most powerful villains — to my mind, anyway — are the ones you can understand.
6. You can’t understand them at all. On the flipside, a completely enigmatic villain can be amazing too. Especially in something with horror elements. It makes things more unpredictable.
7. They have a sense of honour. They won’t strike a man while he’s down, etc. This goes hand in hand with a lot of the other stuff; they’re on the wrong side of the conflict, but you can’t help but wish they weren’t.
8. They are redeemable. If they’re not, then you don’t have to worry if they’ll do the awful thing — you know they can and will. But if there’s hope of redemption, you can hope they won’t do the awful thing.
9. They don’t reveal their own plans. I mean, really. If it needs saying…
10. They do not have an evil laugh. That’d be a dead giveaway, right?

Okay, so tongue in cheek for some of those. I’m looking forward to seeing if anyone’s reccing some good villains!

I skipped last week’s Top Ten Tuesday because TV in general is not my thing (ask my wife how long I’ve been vaguely intending to watch all of NCIS…), and this week’s theme is so hard it makes me tempted to skip it too: “Top Ten ALL TIME Favorite Books Of X Genre”.

I mean, what genre do I even pick? (Well, fantasy, obviously.) And then how do I narrow it down? But here’s a bash at it…

1. The Goblin Emperor, by Katherine Addison. And absolutely no one is surprised. I just love the hopefulness in it, the mindfulness of the main character, the clever linguistic stuff, all the characters and their flaws… I saw someone describe a five star read as being the sort of book where you love it even for its flaws, and I think that’s a very apt description of how I feel about The Goblin Emperor.
2. The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien. I like The Hobbit, but I don’t love it in the intellectual way I love unravelling LotR. I studied Tolkien’s work during my degree, I’ve read the source texts and inspirations, I’ve gone a full circle from loving to hating to accepting and appreciating Tolkien’s style… Again, a book I love with its flaws and all.
3. The Grey King, by Susan Cooper. It’s difficult to choose a single book of this sequence, but I think The Grey King is my favourite, for Bran. I love the atmosphere, the background lore and mystery, and I appreciate that we see a few more shades of grey in this book than in the others.
4. The Summer Tree, by Guy Gavriel Kay. The first book by GGK that I read, and one that has stuck with me more than the others, even when it isn’t stylistically, objectively the best. It’s a homage to previous fantasy, including Tolkien, and it includes characters whose loves and hates tear me apart. It’s another one I definitely love despite its flaws, and maybe even because of them.
5. The Tombs of Atuan, by Ursula Le Guin. A Wizard of Earthsea probably means more to me, in that I connect with Ged’s self-discovery more than Tenar’s, but I’ve always loved the style of this one, the world it describes, the slow rituals of the Nameless ones, and the quiet moments of clarity Le Guin is so good at writing. I’m not sure I admit of any flaws possible in this book…
6. Chalice, by Robin McKinley. This one snuck up on me, and I never expected to love it as much as I do. But something about the world McKinley created, the domestic aspects, the homeishness of the way it feels… This is one I wouldn’t necessarily recommend to someone else, but it found a corner of my heart to live in.
7. Among Others, by Jo Walton. Needless to say, really. I connect so strongly with Mori, her love of reading and imagining, and with some of her difficulties of identity too.
8. The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, by N.K. Jemisin. The first time I read this, I settled down to read a chapter — and promptly read the whole book. I love the world Jemisin created.
9. In the Labyrinth of Drakes, by Marie Brennan. Or this whole series, really — I just found the latest installment so satisfying that it went immediately on my favourites shelf. The books have grown on me since the first time I read the first one, and now I think I’d happily devour them over and over.
10. Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke. I hesitated about this one, because it’s not the same sort of love I have for the other books. Instead it’s a kind of appreciation of how it was put together, the cleverness and care of it — not a passionate caring about the characters or even the world. It was the experience of reading it that I loved, more than the book itself.

That was easier than I thought — whew. What would be on your list?

This week’s Top Ten Tuesday is for books that have been on your TBR since before you started blogging… and you still haven’t read them. Well, I haven’t got anything (surprisingly) from before I started using Goodreads, but I sure as heck have a whole bunch from before I started this blog.

1. Emma, by Jane Austen. It doesn’t help that my mother haaaates Jane Austen. I kind of gained some appreciation while doing my degree, but I’m still not filled with enthusiasm.
2. Mortal Engines, by Philip Reeve. Everything about the idea of predatory cities chasing each other across the land appeals. I just fail at getting round to my backlist.
3. The Island of Apples, by Glyn Jones. This was even a set book during my BA module on Welsh Fiction in English and I still haven’t read it.
4. Daughter of the Forest, by Juliet Marillier. I really enjoy Marillier’s work, in general, and yet. And yet.
5. Her Smoke Rose Up Forever, by James Tiptree Jr. I am a bad feminist SF fan, I know.
6. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson. Everyone and their mother has read this. Except me. (Well, and my mother.)
7. Babel-17, by Samuel R. Delany. I know, I can’t believe it either, this is a classic.
8. Scott of the Antarctic, by David Crane. I know this is a bit of an odd one out here, but I actually find myself reluctant to go ahead and read it, because it’s the last book my grandad ever bought me before he died. While it’s still waiting on the shelf, it feels like prolonging something. The other book bought at the same time is one on railways, which is even more connected with my grandad.
9. A Shadow in Summer, by Daniel Abraham. I think this was recommended by Jo Walton? Was that where I got this one from? Anyway, it’s been on my list since at least 2013.
10. Point of Hopes, by Melissa Scott. Queer fantasy! Yesplz.

What about you? Anything been kicking around your lists for years? And do you feel guilty, or just go with the flow?

This week’s theme for Top Ten Tuesday is a topic you’ve missed over the years and want to revisit… and strangely, when I did a couple of searches on my blog, I didn’t find any posts about my bookish pet peeves. So here goes!

1. Miscommunication. I think y’all know I hate this one, but it’s especially bad when it’s a couple or something, and you know they should trust each other — they’ve even given each other countless reasons to trust in the past. It’s the most annoying plot device, even if it really does happen in real life, because I just don’t want to spend time with characters who make the same stupid mistakes over and over.
2. “I like you just as you are… so I’ll make sure you never change.” That’s not actually love, guys. People change and grow and make free choices, and make mistakes, and you have to let them. It’s creepy as fuck when one character decides that they get to say what another character will do for the sake of their purity or whatever.
3. Insta-love. Unless there’s a reason, like you’re the reincarnation of Guinevere and he’s the reincarnation of Arthur and when you meet you feel the weight of your history, or… whatever, just something that explains it, something that gives it weight. Else it’s just a cheap way to add drama.
4. People are the real evil. I think this is true in many respects, but I hate it when a horror novel or something over-focuses on people being awful. I’m here for witches and ghosts and monsters, and not the human sort.
5. Privilege flipping. It’s been done well by someone, I’m sure, but most of the time it’s really tone deaf, and in some cases just wouldn’t work — e.g. a whole world where gay relationships are the only sort allowed. If that’s the case, then you have to address the issue of procreation, and then also deal with the way that changes society. If there are artificial wombs, fine, but it changes things as well.
6. Changing just one thing. In reality, it’d be like the first in a chain of dominoes. That’s why we have the whole ‘butterfly beating its wings’ saying; a small change here or there will change something else, which will change another thing, which will have a cascading effect. I don’t think there’s any choices we can make that don’t affect something. If I wear my purple socks today, I can’t wear them tomorrow, and I can’t have a conversation about my hedgehog socks today.
7. Stories where women apparently don’t communicate. Like somehow there’s all these housewives who just stay in their houses the whole time and never even cross paths to borrow a cup of sugar, or… It just makes no sense. Even if all your main characters are men (why?) then the female characters in the background will still interact with each other, and if not, there’d better be a good reason.
8. Narrators. Okay, narrators in themselves aren’t a pet peeve, but if you have someone narrating a story, I kind of want to know why they’re telling it. I love it when a story gives you context for the narrator narrating: this was an interview with x, this is y’s diary, etc. Otherwise, who the heck are they talking to? Themselves? And if they are, then why do they need to explain what their favourite colour is and how tall they are?
9. Just one exception. A character can read everybody’s mind… except one. No reason, it just complicates their relationship. If there’s a rule in your fictional universe, every exception needs to have a purpose. How does it drive the story?
10. Inquits. You really don’t have to look for a gazillion alternatives to “said”. They stick out like a sore thumb when you have characters yelling, bawling, crying, shouting, whispering, choking, gasping… “Said” is perfectly useful for attributing dialogue. If you’re using another word, it needs to be doing twice the work.

So there’s my somewhat random set of pet peeves! Share any? Disagree? Feel free to chip in!

This week’s theme from The Broke and The Bookish is “top ten things books made me want to do or learn”. Now I’m sure if I thought about it I could come up with some serious answers (like the way The Grey King by Susan Cooper always makes me want to learn to play the harp — or the way books on archaeology really make me reconsider my childhood dream of working with Time Team), but it’s waaaay too warm here, so you get the silly version.

1. Uprooted, by Naomi Novik. Magic! Obviously! I want to be able to dress myself or cook a meal with a word. That’d be really handy.
2. Magic Breaks, by Ilona Andrews. I want to be able to sword fight like Kate. I mean, okay, I am a total wuss about pain in reality, but I’d be badass anyway.
3. Hawkeye, from Marvel. Or countless other archers in my reading past, like Katniss. Because archery looks fun.
4. Saga, by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples. I want to know when people are lying, like Lying Cat. Okay, that would probably actually really suck. Some lies really do smooth the way between people.
5. Whose Body?, by Dorothy L. Sayers. I want to rock a monocle like Lord Peter. And say things like “I’ll make a noise like a hoop and roll away.”
6. Tooth and Claw, by Jo Walton. I want to be a dragon. That counts for this list, right? And I want to wear really cute hats. As a dragon.
7. The Sudden Appearance of Hope, by Claire North. Maybe not all the time, but I’d love Hope’s ability to be forgotten. Especially when I’ve just embarrassed myself.
8. A Natural History of Dragons, by Marie Brennan. Studying dragons would be really super easy if I was a dragon (see #6).
9. The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, by Catherynne M. Valente. The title says it all.
10. Ancillary Mercy, by Ann Leckie. I want to know how to make tea. No, really, I suck at it. Nobody likes my tea.

Anyone else done a silly version…?