![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Under the cut is my
LJ friendsCollage.
Brought to you by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pratibha75 and teemus.
Who can resist seeing pretty icons all lined up in a row? I don't think I ever noticed before just how many of the icons of my flist have usernames on them. Huh. I think I've put my name on just one icon, lovely topless Xtina at the beach, ages and ages ago.
As to life; it continues apace. I'm attempting to fend off a sudden and sharp desire for porny Harry/Draco (or, rather Draco/Harry, although, really, I wouldn't bitch about who was on top as long as it was porn... this seems to be the HP 'ship of fade-to-black. Argh!) by reading some Storm Constantine.
The Shades of Time and Memory to be precise, which I am enjoying, but not with quite the visceral joy I found in the first Wraeththu series. I don't think the switch from first- to third-person POV has hit me quite this hard since I first read Virginia Wolf's To the Lighthouse. Then, the sudden distance felt jarring but also, absolutely perfect. I knew that there was another part of the story I hadn't read yet, and I could just feel that it would take me right back into someone's skin in that way that only really good stream-of-consciousness narrative can.
In this case, however... with two books out of three down, and the distance of the narrative, and the shifting points of view... I feel bereft. I do think that the approach is appropriate to the story that is being told but, I still have this nagging sense of loss. The intimacy of the first three books was so amazing to me (particularly in Bewitchments) that even though I know this is a different kind of story, I keep thinking about how the different arcs would read if they each got their own book.
I've yet to start in on the fanfic for this, though, so... LOL
~grissecon~
Brought to you by
pratibha75 and teemus.Who can resist seeing pretty icons all lined up in a row? I don't think I ever noticed before just how many of the icons of my flist have usernames on them. Huh. I think I've put my name on just one icon, lovely topless Xtina at the beach, ages and ages ago.
As to life; it continues apace. I'm attempting to fend off a sudden and sharp desire for porny Harry/Draco (or, rather Draco/Harry, although, really, I wouldn't bitch about who was on top as long as it was porn... this seems to be the HP 'ship of fade-to-black. Argh!) by reading some Storm Constantine.
The Shades of Time and Memory to be precise, which I am enjoying, but not with quite the visceral joy I found in the first Wraeththu series. I don't think the switch from first- to third-person POV has hit me quite this hard since I first read Virginia Wolf's To the Lighthouse. Then, the sudden distance felt jarring but also, absolutely perfect. I knew that there was another part of the story I hadn't read yet, and I could just feel that it would take me right back into someone's skin in that way that only really good stream-of-consciousness narrative can.
In this case, however... with two books out of three down, and the distance of the narrative, and the shifting points of view... I feel bereft. I do think that the approach is appropriate to the story that is being told but, I still have this nagging sense of loss. The intimacy of the first three books was so amazing to me (particularly in Bewitchments) that even though I know this is a different kind of story, I keep thinking about how the different arcs would read if they each got their own book.
I've yet to start in on the fanfic for this, though, so... LOL
