

Sometimes you don't feel arrogant enough to blog, or life isn't interesting in a way you want to tell the world about. It's all about books anyway, and I have some more to talk about now.
Finished 'The City and The City' by Mieville. It was excellent, and sort of showed me how my first, test run novel could have been if it had actually been any good. The central conceit of two cities existing separately in one place is made to work more easily than it must have been to write. Characters are good, and it's a page turner.
Even better is the Burroughs; Cities of the Red Night. This book leaps around from democratic, pirate societies in the Eighteenth Century to a murder trail in the contemporary US and South America, with psychic ceremonies, terrifying diseases and lots of sex in between. Almost everyone is gay and addicted to Opium. It's sort of like a less benevolent, more demented Pynchon, and as such it's absolutely fantastic.
And, finally, my signed first edition of the new Bret Easton Ellis arrived from the US, badly photographed above. I'm having to restrain myself from moving straight onto it, but it's testament to the Burroughs that I haven't.