After finishing the revisions yesterday I took the rest of the day off, and went to see “Penelope”, under the logic that it would be charming and wonderful.
It was. I adored it. As some reviewer said, Christina Ricci, even with a pig’s nose, is still awfully cute, and so was the movie. It even had a twist I didn’t expect, which was pretty cool for a frothy sweet little fairy tale. :) *And* I *also* finally got a command performance! That was the first time I’d ever actually been the only person in the theatre for a show, and I am terribly pleased about it. :) (It doesn’t take much, does it? Still! *beams*)
Then I came home and read RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES, sequel to the astoundingly good THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, by Scott Lynch.
It is almost impossible that RED SEAS could live up to my expectations, after how good LIES was. Therefore it is with no regret, but a great deal of astonishment that I say that RED SEAS might even be *better* than LIES. These books are a bit like Shakespeare and Casablanca: despite everybody telling you how good they are, they really are that good. I am enthralled, and can hardly imagine how he’s going to keep this up for five more books, but cannot wait to *see*.
I didn’t finish it last night. Kate came over and we went down to the pub for music, but the music was much later in starting than anticipated, and the very loud sports TVs gave me a nasty headache, so I slunk back home and went to bed rather than stay up all night reading. If I’d been a Good Kit, I would’ve gotten up this morning, walked, written a few thousand words, and then used RED SEAS as my reward for being so virtuous. Instead, the much more likely scenario happened. I got up, went for a walk, came home, and finished reading the book, pausing only for breakfast because otherwise I’d have perished of the hunger. :)
(Ted enjoyed me reading the book enormously. I kept laughing. Sniggering, actually, or snorting, or hrnfing, and at one point I whispered, “Shit,” which made Ted laugh out loud. He was not as observant of the scenes where I was silent but biting a knuckle, waiting for something I was sure was inevitable to happen. Or, perhaps, the bit where the prologue finally comes back, which caused me to sit up straight, more or less wriggling in anticipation, and then to hold my breath all the way through it. Oh, *God*, that was a good book.)