I jabber some more

I've been reading Card's The Worthing Saga, which includes some of his earliest fiction (apparently much-revised). The first half or so is made up of The Worthing Chronicle, which is a set of stories from all over the history of a planet told within a frame tale — he was studying medieval literature as he realized that the whole thing needed to tied together better. What's interesting is how engaging the frame tale structure is even though you have no real idea why it's being told at all, much less to our child narrator, or where the whole thing is going at all. Then, quite suddenly, you see that it has all been about what memories are so important that they are preserved for generations, about the necessity of conflict, both in life and in any story worth telling. It was a nice surprise theme.

Higgs: Best Day Ever

Higgs was kinda freaked out by the pre-race scene — over 700 dogs turned out, but it was the flyball demonstrations that really agitated him enough that we had to take him out of sight of all the mayhem a couple of times — but as soon as everyone started queuing up with their dogs he was all about following their lead. And, most surprising of all, he actually followed my instructions for where to go without being distracted by the herd on all sides. All in all, I think he had a really great time, while for me it was much more interesting than a normal workout. Maybe next year they won't put flyball right in the center of everything.

I watch a deadline approach

This year I decided to run in the Canine Classic, a local charity race you do with your dog (insert gratuitous plug for fundraising page here). This required training on two fronts: I needed to jog, which is normally not my preferred aerobic activity, and Higgs needed to learn not to freak running with other dogs. I just realized it's this weekend, and am kinda worried about the latter. First of all, since he usually runs with Matt, if Matt's around when we run he starts to whine that he's not with the right running buddy. Second, he's a very social dog, and could possibly get way overloaded with all the people and other dogs. Or he could have a really great time. As insurance, I think we're going to have to kind of pre-tire him out at a dog park, and then decide on site whether he gets to run or just watch.

I feel sorry for Dune lovers

Reading The Butlerian Jihad is like living through a war: years afterwards you unexpectedly find yourself having flashbacks to particularly painful parts. Thus, the other night, I couldn't stop thinking about the "character" Erasmus. I use quotation marks because no one in the book was given more than a cursory characterization, if that. Each has one aspect that is simply trotted out over and over again, which gets really old when that aspect is bitchiness, say. With Erasmus, it's a complete lack of empathy. Despite the fact that he is supposed to be a very intelligent and engaging machine in a world where machines have learned to rule humans quite smoothly, he can't grasp that a woman might be mad if he neuters her so that she won't be distracted from him by children. Or that humans might be disturbed by the knowledge that he enjoys vivisections. And the actual humans were worse. I found myself wishing for a Cliffs Notes version, so that I could get the backstory without actually hearing any of the characters open their mouths. Of course, the Butlerian Jihad doesn't actually happen in The Butlerian Jihad, and no matter how much I want to know what happens, I can't bring myself to read any more.

I can sympathize

I don't know if any of my readers (i.e., Drew and Amy and the lurking Matt) read the Song of Ice and Fire series by George R. R. Martin, but I'm going to assume you do because you should. So long as you don't mind that no one's guaranteed a happy ending — if you, in fact, rather relish the novelty of knowing that any character can be killed off at any time, and probably will be before the end — then it's really quite an enjoyable series. Unfortunately, the interval between novels has jumped from two years to five, and he's already had to increase the planned number of novels to seven. To force himself to finish the latest, he apparently decided not to attend any conferences until the manuscript was done, which meant skipping last year's worldcon. On my side, I've wasted a significant amount of time doubting the planned ending of a measly little 3,000 word story, tweaking what I've got to fit the new plan of the day, only to finally realize I need to just finish it. It's not a damn seven novel series or anything.