My mother’s guest bed is horrifically uncomfortable. It’s like every night, after I turn off the lights, two guys armed with baseball bats crawl out from under the bed and beat me mercilessly about the neck, back, and shoulders until dawn.
The picture tube on my mother’s 30 year old t.v. set needs frequent breaks. Every two minutes or so, it simply goes to black for a full minute, taking the volume with it, before returning to its former vibrant self. For another two minutes.
Every once in a while, my mother’s refrigerator emits the rattle and hum of the ice making process. Only problem is my mother’s regrigerator doesn’t haved an ice maker.
My mother operates under the constant impression that people: a) are cheating her, b) have cheated her, or c) have every intention of cheating her. Thus, grocery shopping with her can be a trying experience as she’ll take the time to go over her receipt while she’s still at the till, occasionally challenging the check-out girl on spurious charges – that always end up being legitimate.
One of the key ingredients in my mother’s shampoo is battery acid. I know because I accidentally got some in my eyes this morning.
Speaking of my eyes – I have no idea whether it’s the new environment or me but, over the past few days, I can barely get through 50 page before my eyes begin to sting and I’m forced to set aside my latest book. It’s as though the remnants of bear spray forever hangs in the air.
Felix’s high-pitched and incessant barking is like a shiv to the soul.
My mother’s alarm system that screams “ARMED!” and “DISARMED!” is also like a shiv to the soul. Especially if you happen to be sleeping when mom turns it on or off.
My experience to this point suggests there are no good restaurants in Montreal. Today’s lunch, at a Szechuan restaurant, was comprised of an odd-tasting cucumber salad with gelatinous bits, a spicy chicken dish whose every chicken morsel disguised a deadly bone shard, a cumin beef dish that tasted strangely gamey, and a fatty pork dish that failed to impress. Tonight – Europa. Tomorrow – Au Pied de Cochon, which has yet to let me down.
Some Blood of Ambrose discussion:
Sparrow_hawk writes: “I really liked the “Blood of Ambrose”. The characters were original, interesting and engaging. On the surface the plot seemed to be a rehash of the tale where the young king has his power usurped by his evil advisor/protector and has to fight to regain his throne. But James Enge managed to put enough twists and turns into the story to make it fresh and exciting.”
Answer: True. About halfway through the book, Morlock throws down with Lord Urdhven. I thought “Oh, I know how this’ll go.” – only to be surprised by the first twist that had me revising my opinion to “WTF? It’s too soon!” – only to be blown away by the second twist that had me revising my opinion yet again to: “Holy crap!” and “Okay, you got me.”
Sparrow_hawk also writes: “There were a lot of things I loved about the book. I liked the characters of Morlock, Wyrtheorn and Ambrosia.”
Answer: My favorite was Wyrtheorn and I was actually upset early when it became apparent that the focus of the story would shift away from him to Morlock.
Sparrow_hawk also writes: “That brings me to the things I didn’t find quite satisfying: I’m not sure purpose the alternate personality/sister character of Hope residing within Ambrosia was supposed to serve.”
Answer: That was my poin in yesterday’s overview. I absolutely loved this development and was looking forward to seeing how it would effect the action.
Ben writes: “The king didn’t love the girl at all. Those thoughts were planted in his head by the shathe to lure him into Morlock’s workshop…”
Answer: Really? My bad then. I missed this and the Merlin tie-in at book’s end.
Thornyrose writes: “Then there is Lorn, the loyal and dedicated soldier who provides the young king with a friend and protector during a critical part of the book.”
Answer: Yep, I really liked the Lorne character as well. I loved the fact that he maintained his loyalty to Lathmar in the face of Morlock and Ambrosia’s suspicions.
I’ll be gathering questions for author James Enge until Thursday, so post ’em if you got ’em!
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