Could You Fox this for Me?

Started reading Terry Pratchett's Jingo this past week. I ordered it, along with a new pair of shoes, and Stephen King's The Dark Tower: The Gunslinger. In one day the shoes showed up, but it took Jingo about five or six days and The Gunslinger showed up high noon two days after that. The shoes were Amazon Prime, the books weren't.

Jingo, I think, is my favorite of Pratchett's books so far. I particularly liked this bit below.

The entire Watch was mustering. Vimes looked down at the sea of faces. My gods, he thought. How many have we got now? A few years ago you could count the Watch on the fingers of a blind butcher's hand, and now... There's more coming in! He leaned sideways to Captain Carrot. 'Who're all these people?'

Hah. Blind butcher's hand.

Reading his books reminds me why I got into writing in the first place. Things don't need to make sense in books. I guess things don't always make sense here in the touchable world either though. I mean, look at love, or birthday candles, or, gosh, Baseball. Still, I love it when a book pulls off something that doesn't make sense. There's a nice spot in my mind that warms up when that happens.

Anyway, still haven't written much of anything. Game's coming along swimmingly though.