The Blind Geometer/The New Atlantis
The Blind Geometer by Kim Stanley Robinson: A blind mathematician in nearish-future Washington, DC, is approached by a colleague to aid in a strange puzzle in the shape of a woman who draws esoteric geometric diagrams and talks in jumbled phrases. The intrigue is less interesting than the experiences of the blind narrator. It’s a novel way of telling a story, since you can never mention what anything looks like. This story was my introduction to Robinson, and I think I might pick up more of his stuff.
Return from Rainbow Bridge by Kim Stanley Robinson: This bonus novella tells the tale of a teenage boy in the 1960s and his strange experiences with Paul, a mysterious Navajo Indian friend (though in this story it’s spelled Navaho). It’s not strictly science fiction, but it’s a fun and slightly spooky story that rekindled my desire to visit Arizona again.
The New Atlantis by Ursula K. Le Guin: I love Le Guin, but I had a terrible time following this one. I got that they were living in a strange fascist state, and there was talk about new continents rising in the oceans, but all the italicized parts completely lost me, and I have no idea what was going on at the end. It felt almost like it was building up to something and then just sort of stopped.
Also posted on BookCrossing.
by David Sedaris: Since I haven’t read Barrel Fever, all but one of the stories in this collection were new to me, and I really enjoyed them all. Some of them were more weird than funny, but there were enough laugh-out-loud moments to make up for the bits that fell short of awesome. I especially enjoyed the Santaland Diaries, about Sedaris’s stint as a Macy’s elf, and Front Row Center, which is basically what would happen if a theater critic started covering elementary school Christmas pageants. Definitely recommended, but not if you’re feeling too sentimental about the holidays. Sentimental is one thing this book definitely is not.
by Dean Koontz: Koontz books are many things – exciting, amusing, preachy, absurd, creepy, fun – but never boring. This book, alas, is boring. The Koontz staples are there – magical dogs, blameless Catholics, bad people with no motive other than being Pure Evil – but they’re all just a bit too yawn-worthy in this story. The baddies spend too much of their time demonstrating how bad they are, from killing strangers for sport to abusing a child with Down’s Syndrome, and very little time having distinguishable personalities. The only time I felt any emotional connection to the story whatsoever was when a dog died, but I always cry when animals die, so that’s not saying much. I’m starting to think Mr. Koontz and I need to break up. Or maybe I should just stick with his older stuff.
by Laurie Notaro: A collection of autobiographical essays from one of the funnier writers I’ve come across. Though in places too acerbic to be truly uproarious, once you get into Notaro’s groove her rants and tangents range are pretty darn funny. There were times I laughed aloud – no mean feat, considering I was reading this on an exercise bike. Her descriptions of the tampon flying out of her purse, the spontaneously exploding pants, and her attempts to “love everybody” while at CostCo on a weekend were particularly memorable. A short book, but good for a quick laugh.
by John C. Stipa: Independently wealthy archaeologist Renee and troubled history professor David are summoned to a small village in France to hear the reading of a will. Though ostensibly strangers, it turns out the pair met a couple years before while vacationing (separately) in Rome, and their pasts intertwine even more. Their romance blooms in fits and starts, which didn’t really interest me all that much but luckily was not a huge chunk of the story. Rather, the plot focuses on a strange artifact, broken into pieces and scattered throughout Europe. Finding and reassembling them becomes an obsession for Renee and David. The flavor is distinctly reminiscent of Dan Brown, except with far superior writing and less exasperating characters.
by John Green and David Levithan: The paths of two teenagers, both named Will Grayson, cross one fateful night. Their stories are told in alternating chapters, and their personalities (and writing styles) are different enough that it’s easy to keep track of who’s narrating. But despite the title and narrators, this book is in many ways more about the larger-than-life Tiny Cooper and his struggles with identity, love, and musical theater. I loved and empathized with all the characters. I was at times horrified and delighted at the various twists and turns in the plot, always wanting more more more. And this is one book I wish came with a soundtrack so I can actually hear all the songs in Tiny Dancer/Hold Me Closer. In short, I was completely and utterly sucked in. This was my gym book – that is, the book that lived in my gym bag to be read while on the exercise bike – and I found that I didn’t want to get off the bike when my thirty minutes were up. Now that, my friend, is the mark of an engrossing book. I’ve already added pretty much the entire combined catalogs of Green and Levithan to my wish list, and I hope fervently that they write another book together. Highly recommended.
by Lois Lowry: Matty is the messenger for Village, the one who can brave Forest to deliver messages between various settlements. The story begins at a pivotal moment in his life: he’s discovered a wonderful and terrifying ability, he will soon receive his True Name, and Village, founded as a sanctuary for refugees, is considering closing its doors. It is the third of a loose trilogy that began with 
(a truly excellent novel) – that is, it takes place in the same universe and has some overlapping characters. I never read the second book, 
, but I didn’t feel like I needed to. Truth be told, I wasn’t that impressed with this story. It was too predictable, even for a young adult book. Maybe I’d have liked it better had I read Gathering Blue (or at least more recently read The Giver) but I doubt it. Usually I like dystopian tragedies but this felt forced. All in all, not one of Lowry’s better books.
by Joseph Wambaugh: It’s never a dull moment for the cops of Hollywood Station. The overarching plot is about a master of disguise, a handful of con men, and a handsome teenager just beginning to embrace his inner psychopath. In addition, there are plenty of little asides along the way – funny and/or poignant conversations between the cops, bizarre incidents with criminals, and the like – which keep the action moving. All the characters were great, but I enjoyed the surfer cops the most. Something about the lingo makes me chuckle every time. As far as I can tell, this is the third Hollywood Station book, but I didn’t ever feel like I was missing something. My only real complaint was that the ending felt a touch forced. However, the rest of the story was so good I can overlook that.