books to make my flist's heads explode: John Ringo - there is nothing, and I repeat this, nothing on earth that cheers me up as fast as hradzka's review of Paladin of Shadows books. To put this in context, when I'm unhappy, it's Robin Williams standup from the late eighties/early nineties, Eddie Izzard and flags, anything George Carlin I can find, and this. It is like an absolute good but you know, in that way that leads down the primrose path of Gor novels and softcore fantasy porn from the sixties, which let us never speak of again, because I'm having flashbacks.
Instead! Let us speak of the books! Or let hradzka.
Once you get past GHOST's initial spleen-venting, the PALADIN OF SHADOWS series falls into a much-maligned, much-loved genre which, for lack of a better name, I call "Man Builds Stuff and Gets Lots of Pussy." This is, quite frankly, what got me reading the series: I am not much for stories of a guy just killing terrorists and getting laid a lot; but let him start building a small kingdom while killing terrorists and getting laid a lot, and I am there. I confess that have a soft spot for these kinds of stories. I suspect that *lots* of men do: even if we don't build things ourselves, we like to *read about* guys building things: castles, weapons, companies, societies. It's really very soothing; it combines the pleasures of fiction with a those of a do-it-yourself manual.
I still love that bit. Because it's true. My favorite books and favorite fic, at some point, have one of three things: creating a new county/barony/principality; creating a new kingdom/empire/fief; creating a new religion/religion/religion. Organization is soothing and watching the step by step process of it is very similiar to curling up with a cat and a good spreadsheet. It's not quite a moment you take notes on How to Get Your Godhead Declared (protip: giant worms make everything easier), but it also reminds you that in this world, there is still room for creativity.
If you missed it, I have no clue where you have been, because really. My God. Greatest book review ever. Also, I feel it is less likely I will find myself ending today standing on some sort of roof and waving a fist toward the sky. No idea where that might have come from.