Farewell to Yesterday’s Tomorrow by Alexei Panshin

Sci Fi short stories by Alexei Panshin range from off color humor to self-indulged what-if stories. I really liked the book. Several of the short stories deal with a selection of colonized planets and their generation ship custodians.

Oddly enough, the book contains a note, in which Panshin declares this his last single author book. The rest (after 1974) would be written with his wife, Cory. The title essay, Farewell to Yesterday’s Tomorrow, deals with SciFi post cold war before the cold war ended but after people began to realize nuclear war wasn’t inevitable.

The stories were smart and entertaining.

Nineteen Eighty-four by George Orwell

I’ve read this book before (English Major), so this isn’t really a review. 1984 follows Winston Smith, an Ingsoc Party member on a journey of self-discovery and subsequent re-brainwashing and breaking.

Whenever I read this book I am absolutely struck on how there non-party members just go one. Life is different but mostly the same. They don’t live in the same fear the Party members do and they just make do with what they have.

It’s a sad novel, makes me want to cry even if Winston isn’t a good guy really.

Things I’m Not Doing

Sweeping Epic Gothic! That’s how best to describe Bellefleur by Joyce Carol Oates…a book I’m no longer reading because the prose drowns you.

Drowns I tell you.

I made it one third of the way through the book and couldn’t take it any more. I couldn’t breath, think without despair and I didn’t care about anyone.

Didn’t help the book started with a drowning either.

So that book went to Black & Read…they didn’t want it either. I’m having trouble with the O’s. Besides O’Dell (Island of the Blue Dolphins and Zia) and my current book I’ve dropped Kevin O’Donnell of the brink for his boring, make me do math, Sci Fi snoozer Fire on the Border. Then there was Tawni O’Dell’s murder most foul and unlikable character tome Back Roads. At least I made through Twilight and got many hours of entertainment out of it with making of the fun. These I couldn’t even deal with. It is possible the Edwin O’Connor books might end up on the same pile…but they are at least readable so far.

Also I’m apparently not selling my house. The banks said no at the last minute before closing and the buyer pulled out because she can’t get a conventional loan or pay cash only. Frell…anyone want a house?

I have a ton of other things to do then leak money. Don’t worry, I’d be in this same position had a kept my day job. Worse actually, because I’d be letting down folks other than myself. The room cleansing continues.

We’re not getting a bread maker. The broken one J. bought still sits in the kitchen. He called Cuisinart, who agreed to replace it. Apparently they didn’t say what they’d replace it with. So far we have an espresso maker, and a brick oven (I kid you not) sitting next to the broken bread maker. We give in Cuisinart…we’ll just bake the old fashioned way.

Finally, I am not on schedule. Damn. Kick me now.

Fronterra by Lewis Shiner

This book should have all the trappings of a space adventure.

And it does: covered in the slimy muck of dystopian angst. I know he’s considered a cyberpunk great but this novel, surrounded by trappings of cyberpunk, leaves that setting quickly, to dwell on the hopelessness of dreams and implant induced hallucinations of Japanese mythology.

The novel was depressing, fatalistic and lacked the fun I like in my punk. Not a bad read, but not a keeper either.

Anna to the Infinite Power by Mildred Ames

Anna is a young genius but unlike her family’s musical genius she’s more into math. This starts getting weird when she finds her exact twin during a shopping trip.

Between a weird music teacher (never explained) and the strangely run cloning program…the book was interesting. Overall not very exciting, nor did it ever explain everything that was going on.