This week’s theme from That Artsy Reader Girl’s Top Ten Tuesday prompts is about the oldest books on your TBR: not the ones you’ve had the longest, but the ones which were published longest ago.

Mine’s not going to be 100% reflective of the oldest books I’m likely to read, because I only put books on my TBR on StoryGraph if I own them, and I’m likely to read old books through Serial Reader/Project Gutenberg and the library, on a whim, rather than add them to my backlog. A few years ago there’d have been a lot of works from, like, the 1500s or something, but that’s not really my field now and I read all the texts I was interested in back then. Sooo given my predilection for classic mysteries, my guess is that this entire list is going to be taken up with those…

Here we go; let’s see if I’m right!

1. Mr Pottermack’s Oversight, by R. Austin Freeman (1931). This is a classic mystery, reissued recently by the British Library Crime Classics series. I want to get around to it soon, because I rather liked Freeman’s The Eye of Osiris.
2. The Floating Admiral, by the Detection Club (1931). Also a classic mystery, this one written collaboratively by fourteen members of the famous Detection Club, a group of classic crime writers (which still exists today). The group includes Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers, so I’m definitely curious to read this one. It’s a bit gimmicky, though, so it’s not at the top of my list. I suspect it’ll be a bit of a mix in terms of quality/style.
3. Malice Aforethought, by Francis Iles (1931). I have a couple of others books by Iles/Anthony Berkeley hanging out among the oldest on my TBR, including Before the Fact (1932) and Jumping Jenny (1933). His books are huge classics of the genre and very influential, and I’ve really enjoyed some of them. That said, Iles/Berkeley could be rather misogynistic, and I haven’t felt like risking it yet with the ones that remain. It requires a certain mood and willingness to put up with it.
4. Death at Breakfast, by John Rhode (1935). John Rhode’s mysteries are always solid, workmanlike and enjoyable. They don’t generally have characters with huge personalities (even his series detective, Priestley, doesn’t really stand out in the way that, say, Christie’s Poirot does), and you basically know what you’re getting into, making them excellent comfort reading. I’ve been holding onto Death at Breakfast for the right moment for a while.
5. Murder in the Bookshop, by Carolyn Wells (1936). I really should get to this one, because I do love murder mysteries set in and around bookshops, libraries, museums, etc. I know very little about it or the author, as I don’t think I’ve read any of her other works.
6. Antidote to Venom, by Freeman Wills Crofts (1938). Crofts was really prolific, but I find his work kind of… unmemorable? And a little slow. Still, this one is in the British Library Crime Classics series, and I do want to get round to it.
7. Rocket to the Morgue, by Anthony Boucher (1942). This stands out from the group by being an American classic, and thus out of my usual wheelhouse. I spotted it in a local indie bookshop recently, though, and was curious about the title/cover. Once I read that it was based on Boucher’s experience of being a pulp sci-fi writer, the collision of genres I love made it seem like an excellent choice!
8. Death Knows No Calendar, by John Bude (1942). Bude is another of those classic mystery writers who will generally always write something solid and entertaining, without flair. You know what you’re getting into, and therein lies the pleasure.
9. The Sunday Pigeon Murders, by Craig Rice (1942). About this author and book I know virtually nothing; I got it as part of an “advent calendar” of classic mysteries, and haven’t got round to it yet.
10. Dramatic Murder, by Elizabeth Anthony (1948). This one’s a Christmas mystery, so I’m saving it for December — I actually only just got it last month, from my British Library Crime Classics subscription. As far as I know, the author is new to me, so I’m quite curious.

Aaand as predicted, it’s classic crime all the way down! I hadn’t realised I had so many hanging around unread, I’ll be honest. I tend to hoard them away from myself “for when I need them”, and then forget I have ’em stashed waiting for their moment.

Now might well be their moment, given my reading slump — where’s that copy of Death at Breakfast? When we move, I swear I’m designing the room layouts to include at least two entire floor-to-ceiling bookshelves for my classic crime collection, so I can keep them all in the same place…

Very curious to see everyone else’s lists!

Well folks, I’m writing from a hotel room at a friend’s wedding, and I haven’t talked enough about books yet (even though it was a very nerdy wedding). So, from my hotel room to all of you, here we go: this week’s theme is a Halloween freebie, and I’m here to tell you about books that have freaked me out…

1. Feed, by Mira Grant. When I first read it, it was before the point where I began to try to get curious about my fear of infectious disease, so it was a bit of an unexpected choice for me in many ways. When I initially read it, I didn’t love it — but I later read it again and again, liking it a bit more each time. I don’t think it still freaks me out in the same way, but the fear of infection which drives the story really got under my skin.
2. What Moves The Dead, by T. Kingfisher. This was a much more recent read, of course (just last week!), and I’m a lot more comfortable taking about diseases in general now than I was back then. Still, the fear of contamination drips off this story, and it was probably only Kingfisher’s skill as a writer that kept me reading this one.
3. Spillover, by David Quammen. I know, you probably weren’t expecting non-fiction on this list, but you might be recognising a theme about the things that scare me. I read this book when I was just beginning to see that my fears lessened if I got curious about the subject. It still freaked me out, but it also put me on the path I’m on now (final year of my MSc in Infectious Diseases!).
4. Heaven Official’s Blessing, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. Horror isn’t the primary genre of this book, for sure, and it’s not even one that I’d necessarily mention in talking about the book. But there are some genuinely freaky, gross and gory things here, like the buried head in Banyue (I’ll avoid describing anything too graphic and leave it at that: if you know, you know). The main character, Xie Lian, suffers some really horrendous things throughout, as well, some of which is horrifying to contemplate (for example being staked into a coffin, unable to die, for a century or two).
5. Leviathan’s Wake, by James S.A. Corey. This is more sci-fi than horror, especially the later books, but the first book in particular includes a lot of body horror.
6. Sleeping Giants, by Sylvain Neuvel. This one isn’t horror at all, but the moment where a guy has an accident and they use the excuse to turn his knees around so he can better pilot a massive alien mech is quite shocking, and it’s stuck with me ever since.
7. Catching Breath, by Kathryn Lougheed. Another non-fiction for you! I don’t think I was specifically interested in tuberculosis before I read this book, but ultimately I wrote my undergrad dissertation about tuberculosis, because Lougheed convinced me that we don’t pay it enough attention at all — and we should. Drug resistant tuberculosis is scarily hard to cure.
8. Brain on Fire, by Susannah Cahalan. Cahalan experienced a bizarre illness that appeared to be a mental breakdown, and turned out to be an infection. The idea of such a misdiagnosis is terrifying, and some of her early symptoms matched with some of my genuine anxiety symptoms, which was a whole weird thing. There’s a good chance inflammation (not necessarily triggered by infection, but sometimes — and probably more than we think) is actually causing mental illness in some cases (who knows how many). The things we don’t know about our brains definitely freak me out!
9. The End of Everything, by Katie Mack. Non-fiction about physics breaks my brain sometimes — contemplating the massive size of the universe makes me think a lot of stuff about my own significance, what I think happens when we die, etc, that is anxiety-fuelled in the worst way. Is this an obvious choice for a list of books that freaked me out? Nope, but you weren’t asking me to jumpscare you, just what jumpscared me. This was a good book in general — but a bad one for me.
10. He Who Whispers, by John Dickson Carr. There’s a particular scene in this one where I remember thinking, “dang, that’s actually creepy.” It’s a classic mystery — but a particular character is just twisted, in a way that surprised me very much as a first-time reader!

It’s an idiosyncratic list, but it’s mine!

This week’s Top Ten Tuesday prompt is about how your reading habits have changed over time, which is interesting to ponder.

1. I read a lot more non-fiction. It’s a shift I never expected, because I wasn’t that interested in non-fiction when I was younger, but year by year the percentage inches up. At the moment about a third of what I read is non-fiction.
2. I don’t really enjoy YA anymore. There’s a lot of good stuff out there and I might still give it a shot here and there, but many themes just don’t speak to me as much. And that’s fine: at this stage in my life, it’s definitely not aimed at me!
3. I don’t believe in “guilty pleasures”. I try not to value-judge any genre. Reading is meant to be fun, for me, not some kind of moral duty to read “improving” literature — or even stuff that is necessarily “good”.
4. I used to read straight through books more than I do now. Same with series. Part of that is the shift in genres: non-fiction, for example, can really benefit from taking a step back to let yourself sort through the information.
5. I used to reread books even more than I do now. These days I try not to read books too often, because then the gaps can start to show, or it just becomes too familiar-the same way you can autopilot through a familiar area when walking or driving.
6. I think I’m more influenced by other reviewers’ opinions than I used to be. If I loved a book that someone I trust hated, or vice versa, I worry that I’m being weird! I try to notice that feeling, but I’m sure it still affects me at times. Sometimes that’s a good thing, because it prompts me to think something through… but sometimes I don’t feel very in touch with what I enjoyed.
7. I probably read less than I did. In a way it’s not surprising — I’m not studying for a degree in English Lit anymore, and I’m both studying and have a full-time job. But it might be surprising to hear given how many books I do read!
8. I used to be quite picky about where I stopped reading: it had to be the end of a chapter, or at least a scene break. I know, this one’s a bit more niche and precise! But I really used to find it impossible to put down a book unless I was at a “good” stopping-point. I’m a lot more flexible now.
9. I don’t read in bed anymore. It’s bad sleep hygiene and also it’s not that comfy! I like to be sat upright, with my feet on something to bring my knees up closer to my chest.
10. I probably read shorter books these days. It’s an attention span thing, and also — no matter now I try to avoid this happening — a sense of pressure about completing reading goals, having reviews to post, etc.

Alright, that’s it for me for now — how about you?

I skipped last week’s Top Ten Tuesday because I wasn’t feeling it, but this week’s theme is bookish brags and/or confessions, which sounds like fun. Let’s have a think…

Five brags:

1. I read really fast! If you’ve been around here much, you probably know that, but it still catches me by surprise sometimes. In the past, I’ve read around 500 books in a year, though I can’t manage so much now while I have a full-time workload with self-employment, plus a part-time degree: last year I managed 400 books, if I remember rightly. Which is still a lot!
2. I read a whole range of genres. I’m not sure if this is entirely a brag or just a fact, but it’s something that makes me happy and that I like to show off, so I guess I do think it’s a brag. I’ll never run out of reading material at this rate. (Looks nervously at TBR…)
3. I have autoapproval from Tor on Netgalley. It’s great, obviously.
4. My wife is a-okay with “has room for lots of bookcases” being a criteria for any home we rent or buy. I can, theoretically, understand that some people don’t want bookcases to be their primary piece of furniture. Theoretically. But I’m lucky enough that Lisa’s absolutely fine with my ever-expanding collection.
5. An author I love had actually heard of my blog (and liked it). I just about dissolved on the spot.

Five confessions:

1. I get jealous about how fast other people can read (or how much time they have to spare for reading). Like there are people who can read for more than 45 hours in 11 days every time Bookly do a readathon, and I don’t get how they fit it in around other obligations and hobbies. And sometimes I think those people are possibly lying about it. Which… kind of sucks of me, to be honest, because there are definitely people who think I’m lying about how much I read — and it really grinds my gears. I try not to give into this suspicion… but in that specific context, they do potentially have a big prize to win by lying, so I don’t think it’s quite the same as when people accuse me of bragging on social media.
2. Sometimes, I’d rather play FFXIV. I say this as a confession, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I think there’s a risk of wrapping one’s whole identity around being bookish, at least for me, so it’s good for me to recognise that sometimes I’d actually rather play a video game… and I definitely know there are readers who think that’s awful of me. I don’t believe in being a purist about how books are always the best. Nope.
3. I think some book bloggers (and especially people on Bookstagram etc) are more interested in conspicuous consumption than books per se. The book hauls people post sometimes seem to be book hauls just for the sake of showing off. I worry about falling under that heading too, when I have my several-times-yearly trips to buy loads of books, or get spoiled for my birthday/Christmas. I try to keep my motive being sharing excitement, and to always ask myself if I want this book or just any book that I can show off. Sometimes the answer has been that I’m veering toward the latter, and then I put the book back. If I discover I really did want that specific book, it’ll be there another time.
4. I suck at listening to audiobooks. I get so impatient with the pace. I almost always put them on about 1.5x speed when I can.
5. I’m super bad at reading books to any kind of time frame. I’m a mood reader, and I stop reading altogether when I feel too much pressure to read something in particular. I always need to be able to just move with my whim.

Okay, it was harder to think of brags than I thought… but that was still fun. Very curious what other people have come up with!

This week’s theme from Top Ten Tuesday is the fall TBR. I don’t particularly theme my reading plans, and I usually go by whim, but I usually have some idea of what’s tempting me… so let’s start there.

1. The Book at War, by Andrew Pettegree. Not the most uplifting book, perhaps, but it looks fascinating, discussing readers and libraries and how they’ve interacted (and been manipulated) during conflicts from the American Civil War onwards. I got it out of the library last week, so I should get to this soon.
2. Yellowface, by R.F. Kuang. I have a library hold on this book, so I’m fairly sure it’ll feature somewhere in my autumn reading. I haven’t actually read anything by R.F. Kuang yet, despite owning The Poppy War and Babel, but I keep getting tempted to give Yellowface a shot (even though it’s a bit outside my usual genres). And oops, now I check the Libby app, looks like it’s my turn!
3. Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù. Having loved The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System and being perhaps even more enamoured with Heaven Official’s Blessing (with which I’m nearly finished), it’s inevitable that I’m going to move on to something else by MXTX soon. I’m ready to love Wei Wuxian, but I’ll miss Xie Lian. Technically, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation was her second webnovel, so I’ve perhaps read things in an odd order. That’s okay, though, they’re not connected.
4. The Mountain in the Sea, by Ray Nayler. My wife really enjoyed this one, and I enjoyed The Tusks of Extinction, so I’m very curious to give it a shot. I have it out of the library, which will also help move it up my list. Octopuses are fascinating, and after the recent disappointment of Remarkably Bright Creatures (which was fine, but not what I hoped for) I’d love something that grapples with the weirdness of an alien intelligence.
5. Deadly Earnest, by Joan Cockin. I got this one for my birthday, after I really enjoyed Curiosity Killed the Cat. Time to dig in, I think — I always love a classic mystery, after all.
6. A River Enchanted, by Rebecca Ross. Technically, I got partway through this earlier in the year, and then got distracted, but I think I’ll have to skim over the opening 100 pages again to get myself back into it. And there’s a sequel too, if I get round to this one.
7. A Sinister Revenge, by Deanna Raybourn. I didn’t love the last book in the series (because of the total lack of communication between them, mostly), but I’m hopeful that this book will get me back into it. I really hope so, because I enjoy Veronica and Stoker, and I want to enjoy their stories.
8. Bitter Waters, by Vivian Shaw. I was really excited to see that this novella had come out, and then I forgot about it and only remembered when I started looking through my TBR for this post! I love Greta Helsing and the world Shaw has built, the whole concept of a GP who treats monsters like vampires and ghouls, so I’m excited to dive back in via this novella. I might reread the rest of the series, too, because I adore it.
9. The Tomb of Dragons, by Katherine Addison. Most likely I’m going to reread all the books in this world, let’s be honest, but I’m so excited to dive into The Tomb of Dragons and see where Thara Celehar is now, after the events of the last book. And let’s face it, I really want to know if Iäna Pel-Thenhior is ever going to give him a hug.
10. The City in Glass, by Nghi Vo. This is actually due out soon, and I haven’t read my e-ARC yet, arrghh! I’ve got to get round to it as soon as I can — I’ve loved most of Nghi Vo’s work, and this sounds like a fascinating world and story. I’m never very sure about comparisons to Ursula Le Guin (and saying Calvino, Miéville and Le Guin as comparisons just seems like an odd mix), but I do trust that Nghi Vo’s work is good and generally to my taste.

And now I’d better hop on my bike and go to the library — books are calling out to me for pickup!

What’s everyone else’s TBR looking like for the autumn?

This week’s prompt from Top Ten Tuesday is “The Characters Authors Surprisingly Redeemed”. A lot of people are taking it as characters that had a literal redemption arc within the story, but the prompt notes say that it’s about characters you grew to love — which is sometimes the same thing, but not always.

I admit, I’m struggling with this one, but it’s always easier once I start listing them out. Let’s give it a shot! Given the nature of the prompt, there are some spoilers here, and I’m afraid I’ve written a bit of an essay for point #3. Sorry not sorry!

1. Seivarden Vendaai, from Ancillary Justice (Ann Leckie). Seivarden is a difficult character all round, drug-addicted and arrogant and not always ready to help herself. She’s devoted to Breq, though, and devoted to being better than she was: each time I reread it, I find myself going through the same journey where somehow I start rooting for her, and being sad when she’s not part of the action. Every time, it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment it happens — and Seivarden’s choices can still be completely infuriating even once you’ve passed that tipping point — but every time, I come to the same conclusion. I might not like Seivarden as a person, but as a character she’s great.
2. Artis Corbin, from A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet (Becky Chambers). He’s never going to be a super-likeable character, but he does go through some character growth. It’s difficult to say I like the character, and I’m always torn whether I agree with his most significant choice (i.e. his choice to give Ohan the antidote against their stated wishes), but I did grow to appreciate him more. It’s possible that’d work even better if he was a more major character and there was more time spent on it, but on the other hand, he’s such an ass most of the time that that’d probably be unbearable.
3. Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan, from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù). Bear with me here. In SVSSS, Shen Yuan transmigrates into a story called Proud Immortal Demon Way, becoming a character who happens to be the villain of the story. There’s some literal redemption here, as Shen Yuan inhabits the role of Shen Qingqiu, changes the story, treats people well and ultimately becomes the lover of a character that, in the original, Shen Qingqiu abused. But I’m also referring to Shen Yuan’s journey as a person, because he starts out with all kinds of assumptions and refuses to really be a part of the world he’s ended up in, and ultimately we see him accept his place in it, fall in love, and get over some of his internalised self-hate about the fact that he’s gay. It drove me batty the first time I read the series, but I think actually we’re being shown a journey toward self-acceptance, rather than a narrative that’s inherently homophobic from the get-go. (This is confirmed for me by reading MXTX’s Heaven Official’s Blessing, where Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s love for one another is pretty matter-of-fact, with no sign of Shen Yuan’s constant “no homo”.)
   That’s my interpretation, admittedly, because he never really admits that he’s gay, and the narrative is always limited to his point of view: the only internal thoughts and feelings we get to hear about are his, filtered through the fact that he doesn’t really understand his own feelings. But throughout, he talks a big game about the pretty women in Proud Immortal Demon Way, but shows no actual interest in anyone except Luo Binghe, whom he ends up marrying. The story ends before their marriage (which is covered in the extras), and Shen Yuan clearly has a long way to go still… But he’s getting there, and we see that in his decision to say yes to marrying Luo Binghe, and the fact that after their wedding night, he quietly calls Luo Binghe “husband” just because he wants to try out how it sounds (despite being typically quite cagey about such open affection).
   So yeah, Shen Yuan literally redeems the character of Shen Qingqiu, but he also redeems himself — in a way he might never have managed if he hadn’t died and transmigrated into Proud Immortal Demon Way.
4. Edmund Pevensie, from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (C.S. Lewis). Any other time I might not think of this one, but I’ve been doing a bit of a Narnia reread, so he leaped to mind. He has a literal narrative redemption, of course, in that he starts out a traitor and is redeemed by Aslan, but for me I really came to like how he’d grown and changed from that in Prince Caspian. He’s still sometimes disagreeable, but he’s also a bit more self-aware, and wants to ultimately do the right thing.
   In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Eustace has a bit of a similar journey to Edmund, though he’s just more of a childish ass compared to Edmund’s out-and-out treachery. Like Edmund, we see the journey of a flawed boy who tries to work on it and become better, and he still has petty little outbreaks at first. I’m not actually a big fan of The Silver Chair or later books, but Eustace’s journey continues there. He never becomes a person I’d unequivocally like, but he does become a person who’s working on himself, and that’s admirable.
5. Lord Courtenay, from The Ruin of a Rake (Cat Sebastian). Technically, Courtenay’s getting redeemed after his appearance in The Lawrence Browne Affair, where we mostly just see him as a dissolute playboy. Cat Sebastian does this really well, though: you’ll see a character from one perspective in a given book, and then in the next, you come to understand what’s going on beneath, and even root for that character. Courtenay’s been genuinely misunderstood, as well as making some serious mistakes, and this book quickly establishes that and works toward a happy ending for him that, when it comes, is extremely satisfying. He also has a literal redemption arc where he becomes a bit more socially acceptable and should be able to see his beloved nephew again.
   From the same book, I think Julian also had a bit of a redemption arc for me: he’s already socially acceptable, super acceptable in fact, but it sometimes makes him act like a bit of an ass. Contact with Courtenay softens him up a bit and begins to show him that he can be acceptable enough to society and also have the things he wants. So while he doesn’t have a literal redemption per se, for me he went from being a bit too stiff and focused on appearances to being warmer and more likeable.
6. Thomas Wilker, from A Natural History of Dragons (Marie Brennan). Tom starts off pretty unlikeable, because he and Isabella can’t see one another’s value, and each is fighting against different societal barriers against them becoming scientists. Isabella’s a woman, and Tom’s lower class, and neither of them are welcome. At first it’s each of them against the world alone, but gradually (by the end of the first book, and increasingly throughout the remainder of the series), they join forces and become a lot more than they might be alone. We never get to see a lot of Tom’s personal life, now that I think about it, and in a way I regret that — Isabella’s so focused on dragons, it makes sense that she’s comparatively unaware of Tom’s emotional life (except where it relates to her). But now that I’m thinking about it, I’m definitely wondering!
7. Luke Doomsday, from A Nobleman’s Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel (KJ Charles). Luke’s never quite unlikeable, but you’re very aware of his flaws while reading, for sure. He’s keeping things from Rufus — who would help him if he only asked — and abusing Rufus’ trust. Even if he doesn’t mean to harm Rufus, he definitely causes harm. And it’s not just Rufus, either; Luke is a hurt boy lashing out, in many ways, and he keeps on hurting those around him because of it. Still, through the course of the novel, he comes to terms with it and starts to be a bit more honest with people, and to heal.
8. Tony Stark, from Civil War: Iron Man (Brian M. Bendis, etc). No, not the movie, but from the original Civil War event in the comics. This particular volume was focused on Iron Man, and his reaction to Steve Rogers’ death. Unlike the movies, it really made me understand Tony Stark’s point of view throughout Civil War, and focused on the deep affection and respect he felt for Steve even while they were at odds. Admittedly, the whole part in Camelot is just weird, but in my view, the movies really needed to adapt this volume as well in order to make Tony’s character gel, and they didn’t.
9. Ged, from A Wizard of Earthsea (Ursula Le Guin). Ged’s not quite unlikeable, in the early chapters of the story, because it’s kind of above whether you like or dislike the characters. Ged is arrogant and incapable of admitting when he’s wrong or when he doesn’t know something, and we see him painfully and slowly learn humility, and then real courage and real power. In the later books, we see that pushed further, as Le Guin dismantled some of the sexist assumptions she built into the world, and widens everyone’s point of view.
10. Paul Schafer, from The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay). It’s been a while since I read these books, but I keep being tempted to revisit, because against all odds, it’s a really good portal fantasy (and I enjoy what it does with Arthurian mythology as well). Paul is a difficult character to like at first, but you quickly understand that his reserve is due to an immense burden of guilt. He never becomes the warmest character, but he does learn to care again, and to forgive himself too. In some ways it’s not an easy read because what Paul suffers — and the other characters too — is immense and sometimes very dark. But it is a lovely trilogy.

Whew, we got there! And I didn’t write too many essays…

I’m sure there are other characters I can’t think of right now, and also obvious characters I missed out somehow, but I always treat Top Ten Tuesday prompts as an opportunity to dig around and maybe come up with something different.

This week’s Top Ten Tuesday theme is “books that provide a much-needed escape”, which is quite a broad one. Let’s see what I can do!

1. The Goblin Emperor, by Katherine Addison. I know this one comes up a lot in my Top Ten Tuesday posts, but it’s such a touchstone for me. I’ve read it quite a few times, and I always enjoy it: Maia does his best to be a good person, despite the chaos and ill-will around him, and there’s something so hopeful about the story as a whole. Even better, there’s quite a lot of detail and world-building to wonder about and admire.
2. Heaven Official’s Blessing, by MXTX. This is a much newer addition to the list: it’s what I’m seeking out for escape at the moment. It’s a complicated story with a big cast, and a world that’s unfamiliar in part because I lack the cultural background, and in part because it’s a fantasy. There’s a lot going on: there’s the romance between Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, of course, but there’s also the various mysteries that Xie Lian finds himself trying to understand, there’s the moments of slapstick (which isn’t normally my thing, but seems to work here), there’s horror elements, high fantasy… There are so many side characters I’ve come to love, and picking up whichever volume I’m up to at the end of the day is a lovely escape.
3. Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke. I almost chose Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, which is a big dense brick of a fantasy, but on reflection it’s Piranesi that took me further away. I was enchanted by it on first read, and I don’t think I really put it down at all. I had the same experience on a second read, and I’m sure I’ll return to it again in future.
4. Ancillary Justice, by Ann Leckie. This trilogy is so soothing to me, and I couldn’t quite tell you why. In part I think it’s Breq attitude to everything, the ability to go on despite everything crumbling. Plus, the world of the Imperial Radch has a lot to learn, a lot to be curious about.
5. Band Sinister, by KJ Charles. This book is just pure fun. Most of her books work for me if I need a bit of an escape, but Band Sinister is my favourite of them. The first time I read it, I couldn’t sleep, but I spent the whole night trying not to giggle too loud as I read because my wife was sleeping!
6. The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers. Or really this whole series. It’s just so hopeful about people, in general, and I love exploring the universe with Chambers’ characters.
7. A Natural History of Dragons, by Marie Brennan. How could I not include this series? I’ve reread it several times — I love Isabella, and her drive to learn and explore, and the dragons.
8. The Miss Fisher Mysteries, by Kerry Greenwood. I couldn’t pick a favourite of this series, because it’s more about Phryne and her glamour, surprising practicality, and her mysteries. Really this is similar to point #9 just below…
9. Classic mysteries. This isn’t a single book, but a whole subset of a genre — there’s not one specific book that I’d really point to here, because I find most classic mysteries (think Agatha Christie’s era) soothing. There’s a social order that will be restored by the end of the book, everything is going to turn out okay, the innocent will go free and the guilty find their just rewards. My favourite authors that fit this mold are probably E.C.R. Lorac and Dorothy L. Sayers, but it doesn’t even have to be their work in order to act as a perfect escape.
10. Non-fiction. I find non-fiction soothing in a slightly different way, and an excellent way to escape from worrying over things going on in my life. It’s pretty “safe”, it doesn’t require an emotional investment (most of the time anyway), and I can learn new things. That’s always going to be enjoyable for me, even when I’m too het up to enjoy fiction.

Oof, we made it!

How about you? What books do you think of as a perfect escape?

This week’s prompt is “Books Involving Food (That are Not Cookbooks)”, which… I’m sure I know a lot of books which incidentally mention food, but I’m not sure how many will stand out for me. Let’s see…

1. Heaven Official’s Blessing (vol 4), by MXTX. This one springs to mind because I just read it, and because (alas) all the food Xie Lian cooks is awful, if not deadly. Only he and Hua Cheng can stand it, and in volume four, it gets used as a weapon… I’ll pass on the Love for All Seasons stew, and the Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs.
2. Sunshine, by Robin McKinley. It’s been a long while since I read this, but all the descriptions of baking stuck in my head! It’s so full of good food for a vampire novel.
3. Chocolat, by Joanne Harris. I need to give this a reread, it’s been ages, but I always did enjoy it. And of course, it always makes me crave chocolate. (Oh no!)
4. Legends & Lattes, by Travis Baldree. Okay, it mostly involves coffee, but it does feature the tasty, tasty snacks made by Thimble.
5. The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (vol 1), by MXTX. The original Luo Binghe shows his harem favour by cooking for them… but the Luo Binghe that Shen Yuan meets after his transmigration will pretty much only cook for him. Unlike Xie Lian in MXTX’s other book, mentioned above, Luo Binghe really can cook. I have no idea if I’d like congee, but it makes me tempted to find out.
6. Cold Clay, by Juneau Black. Food keeps getting mentioned again and again, and it all sounds so tasty. Though in this book it is slightly macabre to think that Joe’s been making apple pies using apples from the orchard where his murdered wife was secretly buried.
7. The Biscuit: The History of a Very British Indulgence, by Lizzie Collingham. Time for some non-fiction! This one discusses biscuits, of course, but in a way that also tells us about a broader swathe of history too.
8. White Bread: A Social History of the Store-bought Loaf, by Aaron Bobrow-Strain. A whole history about bread? And not just any bread, but just… store-bought loaves? Yep. And it’s fascinating, and in many ways it’s a book about class.
9. A Cheesemonger’s History of the British Isles, by Ned Palmer. I found this one totally fascinating — and it helps that I really do love cheese.
10. Ice Cream: A Global History, by Laura B. Weiss. I love the Edible series in general, but I’ll stick to highlighting just one. My main complaint was that it wasn’t actually very global.

Yay, I did it! I read a surprising number of books about food for someone who isn’t interested in food, per se. I’m not a cook or any kind of gourmet, but food can be such a strong indicator of culture, it’s a fascinating way to look at society and history.

This week’s theme from That Artsy Reader Girl is a relationship freebie: pick a relationship and then ten characters who you want to have that kind of relationship with, e.g. siblings, found family, etc. I’ve gone with friends — and I’m going to try to pick side characters, rather than the main event, since main characters tend to have a lot of drama (and sometimes danger) coming their way…

1. Liu Mingyan, from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (MXTX). I think Mingyan and I have some things in common — we could definitely talk about books, if nothing else!
2. Ratthi, from The Murderbot Diaries (Martha Wells). He seems like such a sweetie, and Martha Wells did say in an interview that of all her characters, he’d be a lot of fun to hang out with.
3. Medic, from Ancillary Sword (Ann Leckie). In part, it’d be just kind of funny to get a Medic’s-eye-view of Breq, Seivarden, and all the trouble they bring with them.
4. Csevet, from The Goblin Emperor (Katherine Addison). In the same vein as Medic, really, it’d be fun to get a different view of Maia and the court. And Csevet seems pretty fun.
5. Lord Ruthven, from Strange Practice (Vivian Shaw). He knows so much, and he’s kind, and let’s face it, he’d probably make me cookies if I asked.
6. Amanda Frisby, from Band Sinister (KJ Charles). I think we could make a pretty neat book club between me, Amanda and Liu Mingyan.
7. Harriet Vane, from Strong Poison (Dorothy L. Sayers). Here’s another one for the book club. Sure, we’d all need some time to adjust to each others’ cultures and time periods, and I’m not sure if we’d all agree about the merits of each others’ reading matter, but you can bet after that we’d have the most fun.
8. Lenore, from Shady Hollow (Juneau Black). She owns a bookshop. We’re natural friends. And while we’re talking about that book club idea, Lenore’s a good addition too (though I doubt she and Mingyan would see eye to eye).
9. Dr Chef, from The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet (Becky Chambers). Okay, maybe this is slightly another one where I’d love him to cook for me. But also he has a heck of a perspective on the world from all he’s seen, and tries to be so kind and inclusive.
10. Natalie Oscott, from The Tropic of Serpents (Marie Brennan). She drops out of the series and pursues her own career, and I’d love to hear more about her efforts at pushing boundaries.

There we go, I succeeded without any main characters! And I think this book club idea would be really good, if only…

Looking forward to seeing other folks’ posts on this theme — don’t forget to drop your link in the comment if you visit.

Today’s Top Ten Tuesday had me stumped for a bit, but it’s always fun to give it a shot, so let’s see what I can do: “Planes, Trains & Automobiles/Books Featuring Travel (books whose plots involve travel or feature modes of transportation on the cover/title)”.

1. The Goblin Emperor, by Katherine Addison. This jumped to mind right away, because it opens with Maia receiving the news that he’s the new emperor — and a swiftly-arranged airship flight to the capital to take up that position, even though an airship crash was precisely the reason for his unexpected ascendance to the throne.
2. Murder on the Ballarat Train, by Kerry Greenwood. There’s a rich tradition of mysteries involving trains, and Phryne Fisher solves hers so stylishly.
3. The Wheel Spins, by Ethel Lina White. This leaps to mind for the same reason: it’s set mostly though not entirely on a train, covering the course of one fateful journey in which the protagonist puts herself in danger by refusing to accept someone’s disappearance.
4. The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers. The book follows the crew of the Wayfarer as they travel to a far-off part of space in order to create a wormhole that allows other people to travel faster from point A to point B, so it feels like it fits handily into this prompt!
5. Kushiel’s Dart, by Jacqueline Carey. While we’re being unconventional, how about this one? Phèdre certainly travels, not just in this first book but throughout the series. This book concerns one of her first journeys, through the snow of Skaldia home to Terre d’Ange.
6. The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles, by Malka Older. More mysteries and trains, but in a SF setting!
7. The Kaiju Preservation Society, by John Scalzi. Travel to a different dimension counts, right? Right?! And it’s such a fun book too.
8. Artificial Condition, by Martha Wells. Murderbot is travelling! It doesn’t like it, but it sure is travelling. (Can you imagine a travelogue by Murderbot? Yikes.)
9. The Masked City, by Genevieve Cogman. This one features a train — a Fae train, travelling between worlds! I can’t believe it wasn’t one of the first I thought of, because this is in some ways a favourite of mine in the series.
10. Chalice, by Robin McKinley. I know, another unconventional choice, but hear me out: Mirasol ends up binding her demesne together by travelling around the whole area, doing her magic. And there’s the also the Master’s somewhat more metaphorical journey back from Fire, since he originally left the demesne to become a priest of fire. See? Travel.

This feels like… a very typical list from me, heh. Somehow it comes down to the same books in many of my posts, somehow. I guess it’s because I feel like I’m supposed to be choosing the ten representatives of whatever the theme is that I like the best, or at least like a lot.