Bookshelf

One of the last things I brought up from my basement (which will be renovated this month) is the bookshelf directly behind my writing desk. I’ve gotten into the habit of stacking on the uppermost shelf my most recently read fiction. There’s a lot there that’s good – I aim to read only works of fiction that will either most certainly entertain me or contribute in some way to making me a better writer. I’ve reviewed about half on this blog. Some of the others deserve posts of there own, too. These books go back about a year-and-a-half. Here’s an overview, simply because I love writing about books.



Sandkings by George R. R. Martin. Absolutely phenomenal! My newest bestest standard of writing. Reviewed here.

Turning On by Damon Knight. Slightly disappointing short stories, but I’ll keep an open mind toward his other stuff. Reviewed here.

The Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien. The canvas on which the LotR is painted. Heroic, mythological tales from the master. See review here.

Moonraker by Ian Fleming. This Bond novel, quite different from the movie version, seems a decent intro to 007. Reviewed over here.

The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey. My first mystery, a very readable, interesting book. I read it in bed recuperating from my first heart procedure, so I had something in common with the hero. A policeman recovering from an injury and laid up in a hospital for a couple of weeks decides to investigate a historical crime – did Richard III murder his nephews, as had always been assumed? I plan on re-reading this, and posting about it probably towards the end of the year.

Wizard by John Varley. Kinda disappointing. The middle book of a trilogy (which I didn’t know at the time I picked it up), I found it hard to get involved into the story. Weird, though, with some good visuals and interesting ideas.

Kensho by Dennis Schmidt. I first read this book as a kid and had absolutely no idea what the heck was going on. It turns out, there’s plenty of reasons why I shouldn’t have. Settlers on a planet are driven mad by parasitic brain-infesting creatures, and the only solution is to attain Zen enlightenment. Zen masters roam the countryside, teaching others to reach nirvana, while battling ronin, men who’ve succumbed to the bloodlust the parasites engender in them. There’s swords, spaceships, and mysticism a-plenty.

Brain Wave by Poul Anderson. Somewhat disappointing, probably because it reads dated. Especially its treatment of the female characters. Excellent central idea, though: every 250 million years the earth swings through a mysterious field in the galaxy which results in a massive increase in intelligence of sentient beings.

Midworld by Alan Dean Foster. Surprisingly good and entertaining quick read. Reviewed here.

Camp Concentration by Thomas Disch. Very good twist, good writing, good ideas, unlikeable characters. See here for review.

The Brave Free Men by Jack Vance. The biggest disappointment on the shelf. Vance is a grandmaster of SF. I’ve read two others books by him, both one-hundred-percent interesting and involving page-turners. A rare misfire, I suppose.

Level 7 by Mordecai Roshwald. Dreadfully depressing, a "message" novel. Reviewed here.

Children of the Lens by E. E. "Doc" Smith. Prime example of the golden years of SF; a little tough to get through, but fun nonetheless. Reviewed here.

Way Station by Clifford D. Simak. Okay, with some good ideas. Reviewed here.

A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. Understandably a classic. I read it again immediately upon finishing it the first time. What characters, what language, what a world! Highly entertaining dystopian work, a well-deserved legacy. And a well-deserved lunacy.

Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne. Kind of disappointing. Did not gel with my memories of the 1950’s movie, one of my favorites. I have read other Verne books, each making me laugh out loud from the humor. This one was grim and endless. Maybe’s it’s due to the translation, I don’t know.

Polymath by John Brunner. Just okay; could’ve been better. Reviewed here.

A Small Armageddon by Mordecai Roshwald. Another re-read of a book from my youth. Roshwald still crusading against nuclear weapons. In this story, the crew of a nuclear sub mutiny (unconvincingly) and hold the world hostage to their demands.

Conquerors from the Darkness by Robert Silverberg. One of my favorites from my youth! If you find it, buy it and give it to any twelve-year-old boy in your family. Better yet, if you love SF, read it yourself! A swashbuckling pirate story meets alien invaders! Silverberg pulls you in to the story and makes it all come alive - what he’s best at.

Red Planet by Robert Heinlein. I also read this one as a kid, one of the best Heinlein juvenile novels I devoured those long years ago. Tightly written, interesting Martians, good characters (though some stock ones straight out of the ’50s), jingoistic ending, cool bad guy comeuppance. Re-read it as soon as I finished it, hoping the technique would osmosify into my fingertips.

Caliban Landing by Stephen Popkes. Hard to opine on this one. Excellent SF, strange characters, definitely unfamiliar planetoid and aliens, weird crises. Yet somehow I didn’t like it, though I had to finish it. Maybe had something to do with a kind of sad, downer ending. Wouldn’t mind if I had written something similar, quality and idea-caliber-wise. Unsettling ambivalence to this novel.



In hindsight I wished I had taken some digital pics of the old writing office, a.k.a. the Radon Cave, before it’s completely refinished. Oh well. I’ll put up some of the new and improved Cave, though, hopefully in about a month or so. (fingers crossed!!!)