Something. Anything.

So my week of nothing continues apace.

I'm reading Joe Abercrombie's Before They Are Hanged, which is every bit as enjoyable as the first book in the series. One curious thing has happened though: after barely any mention of it in the first book, or for two thirds of this one, suddenly there's sex everywhere. It's handled well and doesn't feel out of place with the relationships between the characters, but it's a little odd.

I've decided I need to read something a little different next (if I can resist going straight into the third book in the trilogy), so I've ordered Cold Skin, by Albert Sanchez Pinol, The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano and The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz. I've also got Aravind Adiga's The White Tiger on audiobook to listen to on the walk into work. Whichever I decide to pick up first, it'll be nice to read something with no swords in it.

Not much else to report. Got James' stag do this weekend which should be fun. Work is going a little crazy as all the libraries try to spend the last of their money. And my wife is as cool as ever.
Oh, and a month from now I'll be winging my way to Sydney (vis Seoul)!