Tales of myth and legend.

Having now been to see Stardust twice, I picked up a copy of the book. Enjoying that put me in a bit of a Neil Gaiman mood again, and I ended up grabbing and reading Anansi Boys very quickly, and now I've devoured a hefty chunk of his most recent collection of short work, Fragile Things. Anansi Boys is very similar in feel to American Gods, but takes longer to get going. Once it's up to speed, though, good things.

It's a while since I've read any of his stuff, and I guess I may have to embark on another time through American Gods. It's fun when you go on an author-kick. At least, I find it so.

And then Beowulf is out this week. Doubt I'll get a chance to get to go and see it any time soon. Current cinema time got taken up on Friday evening with one of the worst films I've seen in a while (I tell you the title — Good Luck Chuck — as a warning, lest you fall prey). The cinema we were at had a very limited selection on, once you discounted the horror fare that I may have ben tempted by but which my wife most certainly was not, so it was the default option. I had had these suspicions as to impending disappointment. Sometimes I should listen to that inner voice, because occasionally it knows what it's talking about.

(I'll have to come back to this post when I'm not rushing out the door and hit it with the link-scattergun. It needs it.)

NaBloPoMo participant