In Which It Is Too Damn Hot

It is stupid hot here and it seems my life has been on hold for the past several weeks while I eat ice cream and wait for it to cool down. I’ve been knitting a sweater but that seems an exercise in futility since obviously I will never need such a thing again.

But I did read The Brass Giant by Brooke Johnson and I can’t quite decide if I didn’t much care for it or if it’s just that it’s hot and I hate everything. I wanted it to be about clockwork automatons and schemes, which it is, a bit. But there is way too much romance for my liking. Possibly because it is too hot to hear about warm embraces – just standing next to people on the bus is gross. (Is there a genre about hooking up with snowmen? I think that could do well.) But even so, it just seemed too much. I mean, surely when you are escaping from prison you should focus on the task at hand rather than daydreaming about making out. (Disclaimer: I have never escaped from prison. Perhaps that is actually the secret to success.)

Know any good books about polar exploration? I might need to take a field trip soon.

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2 Responses to In Which It Is Too Damn Hot

  1. bambiquim says:

    Love this post and review! What about Christmas stories? You could read some Mary Higgins Clark mysteries that occur in winter in the east coast. Or some Stephen King – his older novels pretty much all occur in Maine, and should either detail colder weather or give you the chills, anyway.

    Hope you are able to cool down soon!

  2. salpal1 says:

    Or an Admiral Perry biography…

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