FF: Got To Admit

To misquote the Beatles, got to admit, I’m not quite all better, which peeves me to no end. However, I am definitely on the right course and hope to continue getting over whatever the heck it was I had!
Now for the usual reminder… The Friday Fragments is not a book review column; it’s a list of what I’m reading and maybe a bit about my opinions. I always read the Comments section, because I enjoy learning what other people are reading. Oh, and I don’t usually list shorter works unless in a collection or articles. I also don’t usually list my scattered research reading.
Completed:
Practicing to Be Lightning by Betsy James. ARC. It’s different and very good—I’ll let you know when it’s out. Here’s my blurb for it. If you’ve ever read my blurbs, you’ll know I rarely praise so enthusiastically: “”Rarely is a novel as solidly grounded and yet mystically fluid as Practicing to Be Lightning. The characters’ journeys are spiritually profound, yet profoundly human. I enjoyed this tale immensely, and look forward to deeper revelations as I re-read it in the years to come.”
Miss Pym Disposes by Josephine Tey. Audiobook. One of Tey’s strengths is characterization. Flawed, yet powerfully caring Miss Pym is very different from cool, detached Allan Grant.
In Progress:
Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles by Clamp. I’ve read this before, and also watched the anime adapted from it. Jim gave me several of the omnibus (three original manga per) volumes for my birthday. When I glanced at them, I found myself pulled in all over again. Translator William Flanagan’s work is excellent. His notes about the choices he made, as well as about Japanese culture, are gems. I’ve re-read omnibus volumes one and two, and just started three.
The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers. Audiobook. I was looking for something else, and came across this and couldn’t resist. Interesting how Powers permitted himself more linguistic humor (including a sly pun) in this one than in his other books.
Also:
Almost done with the latest Smithsonian. Reading about Cormac McCarthy makes me wonder about whether I’d like to have eidetic memory or not.