Ms. Smartarse > Recent Status Updates

As a child, our Kirsten had so many aunts and grannys, that she'd get completely confused. She called the neighbor Auntie Gundel, but the neighbor's mother was simply referred to as Auntie Granny.

From granny's Twitter:
I'm so annoyed! Today would've been such a great funeral with accompanying feast at the Kempinski [Hotel], but my black suit is at the cleaners.

Someone's taking this "burning gaze" metaphor too far:
"[He] shot his special glace at the Procurator's cheek."
"[His] glance was also extinguished as his eyelids drooped."
"[He] sent another of his glances at the Procurator, but, as usual extinguished it at once."
"[He] not only shot his glance at the Procurator, but even held it a moment."
"[He] threw no more of his glances at the [Procurator], but..."

Phrases like these drive me nuts:
"BY OUR BARRICADE gates, in rump street-markets, quickly tolerated, an economy of recycled necessities, people began to talk again about relief."

On the one hand, Mieville's strange usage of commas and non-linear story telling is driving me crazy. On the other hand, every time he unveild a new new tidbit of world-building all my annoyances disappear.

P.S. three cheers for artist fans, who helped me visualize the Ariekei.

Confession time: I mainly suggested this novel for the next book club meeting, hoping to hear people moan about Mieville's impossible writing style. As things are standing now, I'll probably be the only one reading it, and silently scream into my pillow in frustration. Gotta love Karma!

Otherwise the plot, characters and concepts are all awesome and all that jazz. Yes, seriously. :D

An interesting, and arguably much more realistic, approach to human-alien cohabitation

This is surprisingly good, even though I only chose it for the unpronounceable title...

I saw Gena Courtney working at the blackboard. I wonder if she thinks of herself as a handicapped person or just a regular girl, like me.

How exactly does one look sophisticatedly thuggish?! Or did the thugs from the 1920s have much better manners, compared to their current counterparts?

"You're Welsh," Will pointed out. "You've got no room to talk about spelling."
"Nothing wrong with Welsh spelling, thank you," Maisie said, with an edge on her accent.
"Come off it. You put two 'l's in everything and don't say any of them."

"Is there something you'd like to say to me that isn't sarcastically allusive?"
"No. Sarcastic allusion is my preferred mode of speech."
[image error]

The walk back home felt like part of the fever dream. One simply didn't agree to commit nameless and unlawful acts and then go for a pleasant country stroll with one's co-conspirator.

The confessor can point out the path to God. At a crossroad you don't have multiple paths that lead this way. There's just one. The rest are traps.


... and this is why I hate religion. The Christian religion at any rate; I'm not familiar enough with the rest.

Neil Gaiman should narrate everything. Including the phone book.

Ty had been told not long ago, that he shouldn't enjoy the almost getting killed part of his job as much as he did. Zane didn't know who had said it, but ever since, Ty had been making a concerted effort to hide his unholy glee during melees. It was still pretty clear to Zane, though.

"Do you remember how many times you've said I'm bad for PR? Thirty-seven times."
"You've counted?" McCoy asked without sounding surprised.
"Latent OCD,"
"Here it is straight. You're both personable and competent, but the real kicker is that you're both pretty, and it's better to have eye candy in the newspaper than some nondescript drone."