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Originally published at Novel Gazing Redux. You can comment here or there.

Review copy provided by Haikasoru Books.

This is one of the weirdest books I’ve read in a long time. The Bamboo, the creatures in it, are described as vampires, but they’re really more grass monsters who eat human carrion. They’re described as scary, but I’m not particularly scared by them so much as baffled by their strange, secretive, hierarchical laws. (For me, this is a feature, not a bug.) And on basically every other page, I’m left saying, “What? What?” (Again, a feature, not a bug.)

There are three sections varying widely in time, with different protagonists. Even within the sections, the timeline swings wildly, spending pages on a conversation translated lovingly to attempt to show what level of formality the Japanese conversation used (oh, a losing battle) and then going over forty years in a single line. I would say that it’s full of plot twists, but that sounds very linear, very straightforward, as though things are following one upon another with logic–it is full of plot twists the way the dream you are trying to remember from two nights ago is full of plot twists. “And then you what? Why? Okay.”

And then the grass monster reached the end of their life and exploded into flowers. What? Okay. No, different section, they ate someone who they thought was abusing a prostitute. What? Okay. If that’s not okay with you, you should probably move along, because that’s what there is here, a whole lot of angst and monsters and randomness, and some of you are saying, gosh, no thanks, and some of you are saying, sign me on up.

Please consider using our link to buy A Small Charred Face from Amazon.

Books read, early September

Sep. 19th, 2017 06:45 pm
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Originally published at Novel Gazing Redux. You can comment here or there.

Alex Alice, Castle in the Stars Book One: The Space Race of 1869. Discussed elsewhere.

Hassan Blasim, ed., Iraq+100 Discussed elsewhere.

Chaz Brenchley, Dust-Up at the Crater School Chapter 7. Kindle. Plotty, moving forward, full of dust storms and schoolgirl antics, as one would expect for this project.

Marie Brennan, Maps to Nowhere. Discussed elsewhere.

George Eliot, Middlemarch. Kindle. And this is what happened to my early September. Middlemarch is surprising; it is delightful. It is one of the longest classics of English literature, and it is a joy to read. I kept thinking that I would want to leaven it with bits of something else, go off and take a break and read something in the middle of it. I didn’t. (I mean, I always have a book of short pieces going. But other than that.) While I was reading Middlemarch, I kept wanting to read Middlemarch, and when I was done reading it I wanted more of it. The only thing of its size that’s at all comparable in my attachment to it is John Sayles’s A Moment in the Sun, and that does not have the passionate following Middlemarch has–wherever I mentioned it I found that friends and strangers were ready to share my delight in this wandering intense chatty behemoth of a book. I’m discussing it with a friend who’s reading it with me. I’m not sure I have a lot to add for the general audience except to say, it’s funny, it’s intense, it’s gigantic emotionally as well as literally, it makes me want to read more George Eliot, it makes me want to read its giant self all over again. It is in some ways exactly what you would expect and in other ways nothing like what you’d expect. It is thoroughly itself. And oh, I love her, I love George Eliot so very much. I’m glad I read such a quotable thing when I was past the age of needing to strip-mine books for epigraphs. I can do that later. I’m glad I could just relax in and read this first time.

Masha Gessen, Words Will Break Cement: The Passion of Pussy Riot. I enjoyed another of Gessen’s books and picked this up because the library had it, more or less on a whim. And it gave me a perspective on modern Russia that nothing else has, particularly on its criminal justice system. What the prison system is doing there, what trials are like, what sorts of things are prioritized, what and who counts, what and who does not. Enraging, illuminating. There are some things Gessen just takes for granted you will know about feminist art theory and punk, but I think it may still be interesting if you don’t? but even better if you do. Also, if you have a very strong high culture/low culture divide, read this book and have that nonsense knocked out of you. Not that I have an opinion about that.

Ben Hatke, Mighty Jack and the Goblin King. Discussed elsewhere.

Steve Inskeep, Jacksonland: President Andrew Jackson, Cherokee Chief John Ross, and a Great American Land Grab. This is very much in the popular history category: short chapters, many things explained on a fairly straightforward level. Not a lot of delving deep into the obscure corners. However, Inskeep does a fairly good job of switching back and forth between the lens of the European settlers turned recent Americans and the lens of the cultures of the Choctaw, Chickasaw, Creek, Seminole, and especially Cherokee people in the region he was discussing. One of the things that this particularly underscored for me is how quickly the European/American settlers viewed the land as traditionally theirs in that part of the south: the beginning of the Cherokee Trail of Tears was twenty-three years before the US Civil War. Even the earliest of the resettlements was only thirty years before. So in some parts of the Deep South, there were indeed plantations that had been going for generations–but in large, large swaths of it, the land they were fighting so hard for was land they had just taken from its previous owners basically five minutes ago. References to traditional way of life in that context are basically like talking about GameBoys and other hand-held gaming devices as our traditional way of life: they are bullshit. I think the way we are taught this period of history in American schooling encourages us not to think of that. I will want to read much deeper works on Andrew Jackson’s presidency. In this case I will say: Inskeep is not trying to paint him as a great guy or not a racist…and I still think he ends up going too easy on him. But it’s a good starter work for this period, I think.

Ursula K. LeGuin, The Language of the Night. Reread. The last time I read this was before I was keeping a book log, which means also before I was selling short stories regularly. I was a lot less prone to argue with assertions about fantasy not needing to compromise then. (Oh nonsense, of course it does.) But one of the things that makes Ursula LeGuin a great writer is that she argues with her past self, too. She evolves. She evolves in the course of this collection. And I think she’d be far happier with people thinking and arguing than uncritically absorbing anyway.

Rebecca Mead, My Life in Middlemarch. So…I didn’t mean to go straight from Middlemarch to a book about it, but the other thing I had from the library, I bounced off, and…I wasn’t ready to be done. This is Mead’s memoir entangled with a bit of biography of Eliot. There are places where Mead is bafflingly obtuse (some areas of gender politics and the writing of sexuality, notably, but also the difference between a character who is fully human and a character who is generally sympathetic), but in general it is short and rattles along satisfyingly and tells me things I want to know about George Eliot without telling me too many things I actively didn’t want to know about Rebecca Mead.

A. Merc Rustad, So You Want to Be a Robot. This is a solid and heart-wrenching collection. It’s impossible to pick one true favorite because there are so many good choices. Definitely highly recommended, Merc hits it out of the park here. And they’re just getting started.

Gerald Vizenor, Bearheart: The Heirship Chronicles. This is when Vizenor was just getting started, and gosh I’m glad I didn’t get started with his early work, because…why, oh why, did so many men of the seventies–particularly men who wanted to claim they were ecologically minded without doing much about it–pick the same direction for their demonstrations of their own sexual daring? Well, Vizenor grew out of it. But it’s a one of those. The person who wrote the afterword was sure that objections to it would be because people thought Indians couldn’t be like that! and no, it’s that it’s trite, it’s exactly the kind of trite sexual objectification of women–especially Indian women–that you’d expect from “seventies dude trying to be sexually shocking.” He got better. I’m glad.

What I'm up to...

Sep. 17th, 2017 08:36 pm
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  • Revising new Emily collection, Desire, before sending out for proofing. Over halfway there.
  • Working on Blood Moon, the sequel to Silver Moon.
  • Latest Out of the Past column is done and up - we're in the 1980s now, people!
  • 1st Patreon post of the month is out and away
  • 5th reading of the year is done. Went reasonably well.
  • New short story, "Firebird" is out in Renewal, the new Queer Sci-Fi anthology of flash fiction
  • Prepping for next round of events
  • Trying to sell my World Fantasy membership for San Antonio - please let anyone who's interested know
  • Various Queen of Swords Press things
  • Day jobbery and related
  • Stuff. So much stuff.
  • Also, saw "Wonder Woman" again last night. I didn't catch this the first time but when Etta Candy is talking about engaging in a "spot of fisticuffs" when it comes to women's suffrage, she makes a gesture that looks like a jujitsu move. All kinds of awesome, assuming I'm right.
  • Going to a staged reading by Prime Productions tomorrow night. Productions by and about older women - loving them so far.
  • More stuff. Also volunteering for Clare Housing (local nonprofit assisting homeless folks with HIV/AIDS) this week - yay!

Planet of the Five Rings

Sep. 13th, 2017 02:20 pm
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Originally published at Novel Gazing Redux. You can comment here or there.

New story out today! Nature Futures is giving you Planet of the Five Rings. This was a Christmas present to my father, who is a deeply serious person, so you know that it will be a grim and somber read. If that’s not enough, there’s a story behind the story blog post where you can read more about it. Hope you enjoy!

New Release Day - Renewal is out!

Sep. 13th, 2017 08:40 am
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My new story "Firebird" (bi apocalyptic, horror of a sort) is out today in Renewal, the new Queer Sci-Fi anthology from Mischief Corner Books! Details below. Lots of familiar names in this one - should be a fun read.

Press Kit – Renewal


 
Publisher: Mischief Corner Books

Author: Various – see Authors section below

Cover Artist: Gus Li

Length: 196 pages

Format: eBook, Paperback

Release Date: 9/13/17

Pairing: Various – covers many pairings and identities

Price: 4.99, 16.99 paperback (b/w illus); 28.99 (color illus – avail 9/16)

Series: SF Flash Fiction Anthologies – Book Three

Genre: Sci Fi, Paranormal, Fantasy, Horror, Romance, Mainstream

 
Blurb:

 
Re.new.al (noun)

1) Resuming an activity after an interruption, or
2) Extending a contract, subscription or license, or
3) Replacing or repairing something that is worn out,
run-down, or broken, or
4) Rebirth after death.

Four definitions to spark inspiration, a limitless number of stories to be conceived. Only 110 made the cut.

Thrilling to hopeful, Renewal features 300-word speculative fiction ficlets about sexual and gender minorities to entice readers.

Welcome to Renewal.





Excerpts:

Because these stories are only 300 words each, we’re not supplying long excerpts, but here are the first lines of several of the stories. Enjoy!

“Griselda pulled the weeds from between the rows of Valerianella locusta plants in the garden, careful not to disturb the buds that would grow into the babies that were her only real income-producing crop.” —The Witches’ Garden, by Rie Sheridan Rose

“I didn’t know how truly the world was in trouble until I went journeying to look for Anisette’s bluebonnets.” —Bluebonnets, by Emily Horner

“The ship’s drive malfunctioned at the worst possible time.” —The Return, by Andrea Speed

“When I died they buried me at the bottom of the garden and returned to the fields.” —Below the Hill, by Matthew Bright

“The world is ending and I can’t look away from your eyes.” —Sunrise, by Brigitte Winter

“The day I was born again was damp, rainy—a good day for rebirth, all things considered.” —The Birthing Pod, by Michelle Brown

“‘You’ve reached Androgyne HelpLine. Press one to start service. Press two to interrupt or cancel service. Press three—’” —Auto-Renew, by Ginger Streusel

“‘San Francisco was the first to go dark, followed by Los Angeles.’” —When Light Left, by Lex Chase

“My fingers lingered on the synthetic skin, trailing soft patterns across my work.” —Miss You, by Stephanie Shaffer

 
Buy Links, Etc:

Mischief Corner Books (info only): http://www.mischiefcornerbooks.com/renewal-qsfs-fouth-annual-flash-ficiton-contest.html

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074ZPB4ZM/

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/renewal-j-scott-coatsworth/1127042522?ean=9781975654368

 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/renewal-27

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36113415-renewal


Authors:

A.M. Leibowitz, A.M. Soto, Abby Bartle, Aidee Ladnier, Alexis Woods, Andi Deacon, Andrea Felber Seligman, Andrea Speed, Andrea Stanet, Anne McPherson, Bey Deckard, Brigitte Winter, Carey Ford Compton, Carol Holland March, Carrie Pack, Catherine Lundoff, CB Lee, Christine Wright, Colton Aalto, Daniel Mitton, Dustin Blottenberger, Dustin Karpovich, E R Zhang, E.J. Russell, E.W. Murks, Ell Schulman, Ellery Jude, Eloreen Moon, Elsa M León, Emily Horner, Eric Alan Westfall, F.T. Lukens, Fenrir Cerebellion, Foster Bridget Cassidy, Ginger Streusel, Hannah Henry, Irene Preston, J. Alan Veerkamp, J. P. Egry, J. Summerset, J.S. Fields, Jaap Boekestein, Jackie Keswick, Jana Denardo, Jeff Baker, Jenn Burke, Joe Baumann, John Moralee, Jon Keys, Jude Dunn, K.C. Faelan, Kelly Haworth, Kiterie Aine, Kristen Lee, L M Somerton, L. Brian Carroll, L.M. Brown, L.V. Lloyd, Laurie Treacy, Leigh M. Lorien, Lex Chase, Lia Harding, Lin Kelly, Lloyd A. Meeker, Lyda Morehouse, M.D. Grimm, Martha J. Allard, Mary E. Lowd, Matt Doyle, Matthew Bright, Mia Koutras, Michelle Browne, Milo Owen, Mindy Leana Shuman, Naomi Tajedler, Nathan Burgoine, Natsuya Uesugi, Nephy Hart, Nicole Dennis, Ofelia Gränd, Patricia Scott, Paul Stevens, PW Covington, R R Angell, R.L. Merrill, Rebecca Cohen, Redfern Jon Barrett, Reni Kieffer, Richard Amos, RL Mosswood, Robyn Walker, Rory Ni Coileain, Rose Blackthorn, Ross Common, S R Jones, Sacchi Green, Sarah Einstein, Shilo Quetchenbach, Siri Paulson, Soren Summers, Stephanie Shaffer, Steve Fuson, Tam Ames, Terry Poole, Tray Ellis,  Vivien Dean, Wendy Rathbone, Xenia Melzer, Zen DiPietro, Zev de Valera

Iraq+100, edited by Hassan Blasim

Sep. 12th, 2017 07:16 am
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Originally published at Novel Gazing Redux. You can comment here or there.

Review copy provided by Tor Books.

The cover describes this as, “The first anthology of science fiction to have emerged from Iraq,” but “emerged” seems insufficient to describe the work the editors did to make this project happen. Without an established science fiction community, editors definitely can’t just call for submissions and put their feet up. From what’s in the introduction, Hassan Blasim, with the help of Ra Page, approached writers from many regions of Iraq, generations, and writing styles, coaxing and cajoling them to approach the idea of Iraq a hundred years after invasion, doing with it whatever they saw fit. That’s not just emergence. That’s beyond even encouragement.

My favorite part of the stories themselves is the focus on Iraq as a future setting: this square or that city taking pride of place, this saying or that legend being the focus. I love fiction in translation for that reason: for the shift in perspective. I want more of it. And in order to get more of it, I’m willing to deal with stories that are not what I would ordinarily like best: stories with more sexual threat, stories that retread similar ground to previous work in other languages/cultures, stories that don’t seem to be able to find any thread of hope in the entire world. Which is not this entire volume, but it is some of this volume. If what I really want is works in translation from all over the world–and it is–I need to let the people actually from those places tell me what stories they want to tell, not tell them that their stories don’t fit my preconceptions of what they should want to tell. So while in some ways this was a bumpy reading experience for me, with some delights and some difficulties, I’m very glad to have the opportunity for the bumps.

Please consider using our link to buy Iraq+100 from Amazon.

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Originally published at Novel Gazing Redux. You can comment here or there.

Review copy provided by First Second Books.

When a person who mainly reads prose expands into reviewing graphic novels meant for children, suddenly the form factor of the book starts mattering a great deal more than it ever did before. This book is a large, slender hardbound, the sort of book I don’t see regularly outside picture books. Its production values are glossy and very high–but it’s not a picture book, it’s a watercolor graphic novel translated from the French.

The paintings are lovely. The layout is sometimes quite busy for my eye, having extra rows and columns of illustration compared to a “standard” size of graphic novel.

Seraphin’s mother is an explorer of the aether, a scientist in her hot air balloon. When she disappears on a dangerous flight, Seraphin and his father try to balance their own explorations with a desire to keep each other safe–and to find out what happened to her. They wind up in Bavaria, at the court of King Ludwig, whose swan-shaped aether-ship is promisingly bizarre.

The “book one” in the title is not merely an indication that this is a series: the story is not complete in this volume. What adventures will our young etc. and his daring friends etc. etc. I think comics readers are pretty used to that sort of thing, and there is plenty of adventure, excitement, swashing, and buckling. It’s a fairly old-fashioned sort of adventure–maximum of one girl character at a time, apparently, and the gratuitous startled-in-the-bath scene–but airships and 19th century science jokes do have their charm; I would definitely read further to see how this comes out.

Please consider using our link to buy Castle in the Stars Book One: The Space Race of 1869 from Amazon.

Sundry updates

Sep. 10th, 2017 04:16 pm
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After some consideration, I have realized that I cannot do 3 events in October, virtually back to back, then turn around and do World Fantasy in San Antonio in November. I'm bummed to not get to hang out with some awesome folks, but what between being in constant pain and wrangling odd crud since I got back (I'm on the mend, but slooowwwly), wrangling expenses and limited vacation time, I have to be somewhat realistic. So I have a WFC membership at the $150 rate and a transferable hotel room reservation - let me know if you're interested.

the good news is that I'm going to Arisia in January instead! Looking forward to seeing my Boston area and East Coast friends!

Other than, I'm wrangling stuff and getting prepped for my reading on 9/15 with author Rachel Gold at Boneshaker Books in Minneapolis, Queen of Swords Press tables at the WomenVenture Women Mean Business Marketplace on 10/14 and the Twin Cities Book Festival on10/15, followed by Sirens on 10/26-10/29. And some other events before and after. And writing - new books coming soon, more Queen of Swords Press stuff coming soon and more stuff in general!


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We flew into Reykjavik, Iceland, on Saturday morning after an overnight flight, which is always fun, by which we mean that other thing. But despite some sundry setbacks, we made it to the bus and got to our hotel. They were kind enough to let us into the room early and we dropped stuff off and then went hunting for brunch. It was a holiday weekend so a lot of places were closed or had irregular hours, but we found a nice little café nearby and enjoyed a good meal. I particularly loved the bathroom décor, which included a barred window piled high with…stuffed rats. Hey, port city humor, gotta love it. After that, we wandered around and around and down to Culture House, which is a museum/contemporary art gallery. 

 And by then, I had walked my feet into the first exciting set of enormous blisters for the trip. I had bought new walking shoes for the expedition and a second pair of broken in shoes that felt okay on my arthritic toes, but that, alas, was not enough. So limping through Scandinavia on bleeding and generally swollen feet was a thing that happened. At any rate, we went back to the Hotel Holt, which is a fabulous old pile in the artsy section of Reykjavik, filled to the brim with the former owner’s art collection and antiques. These were gloriously eclectic so there was a lot to look at. We also enjoyed our meals (one dinner, three breakfasts) there and our room was reasonably comfortable so wins all around. 

 Sunday was intended to be our queer history walking tour day, but the tour company cancelled on us due to sheer volume of tourists, so instead we wandered around some more, went to Volcano House and other fun places, then met up with Minnesota artist Sishir Bommakanti for dinner. Sishir’s father is a former coworker and current friend of mine, hence the connection, and Sishir was in Reykjavik on an art fellowship. He’s got shows up at MCAD and Greylab now of his horror-influenced art – I recommend checking it out! He’s very good (also, a fine and pleasant dinner companion). After dinner, we went our respective ways, in our case, to take a long stroll up the sculpture walk on the waterfront to the Harpa (big landmark concert hall) for “The Icelandic Sagas: The Greatest Hits,” which was mostly hilarious. Then it was back to the hotel to catch some zzzs before getting up to go to the Blue Lagoon on Monday. 

Blue Lagoon was blue, rocky and very crowded. I found the experience overrated, kind of like bathing in lukewarm pea soup. But we can say we went. After that, we headed back to the hotel, cleaned up and wandered down to the Reykjavik Pride headquarters, at the sign of the rainbow unicorn. We bought a few small odds and ends, then went in quest of dinner. An enterprising young man who had just opened his new restaurant that very day beckoned us in with samples and we had a nice dinner and chat with him. Overall, Reykjavik was charming and kind of reminiscent of Wellington, NZ. I would not go back again during high tourist season though - the country is really not built for the amount of traffic it's seeing and it shows. Though I might make an exception for Pride, which looks amazing.

The next day was the ever-popular  "Rise at the crack of dawn to trundle down to the bus station and catch a bus to the airport." Reykjavik Airport is not for the faint of heart and there were sundry issues before we could check in. After some unpleasantness, we managed to get on the plane and head off to Helsinki. About 5 hours later, voila! New country, next round of time zone adjustments. And off to another hotel, this time by taxi because I wimped out. I was quite right, as it turned out, since negotiating the trains and trans with luggage was a challenge. At any rate, the hotel was pleasant, though further from the main train station than we hoped (only an issue because of my feet, which got rapidly worse over time). After unpacking, we strolled out to the esplanade, hit the farmer's market for dinner, ran into folks, then collapsed back the hotel (after I stuck the swollen hamhocks on the ends of my legs under the shower for a bit).

The esplanade and Helsinki harbor were gorgeous, which was good because we were back there the next morning to catch a ferry to Suomenlinna Fortress with A.J. Fitzwater and other fine folks from the Con. The Suomenlinna tour was quite lovely and interesting and I heartily recommend it if you find yourself in Helsinki, especially on a nice day. From there, we went on to lunch, followed by a tram adventure! Apparently, "This tram has been rerouted. Please get off here and wait for the next one." translates splendidly, even into languages you don't understand. So we got off, after I double-checked with the driver, and immediately ran into the charming Caroline Stevermer and one of her friends. Hilarity ensued. See Part 1 for the con write up.

Apart from clothing shopping at Boutique 52 (thanks, Elise!), the next not con-related thing that we managed to do was the Tom of Finland Walking Tour, which we attended in lieu of going to the Hugos because we’re like that. We met our tour guides in the bar of the hotel that used to be the Sibelius Institute, where the artist used to play piano and watched a short documentary on him. We then got a tour of his old cruising grounds, an apartment where he used to live, a sex shop that sold Tom paraphernalia and whose owners knew him, a fabric store that sold Tom fabric designs (all made in Finland!), more cruising grounds, the Post Office for Tom of Finland stamps and finally, a coffee shop that served us Tom of Finland coffee. Our tour guides were charming and had lots of info as well as questions about being queer in the U.S.; Finland just legalized samisen marriage this year so they were pretty excited about that. And Tom is a remarkable cottage industry in Finland - a recent biopic is the highest-grossing film in Finnish history, queer men cosplay his characters on the esplanade, there are stamps and coffee and sheets and fabric and potholders and postcards and picture books and…a Tom of Finland dildo. I can honestly say that I’ve never seen anything quite like it. :-)

After that, there was more con. Then on Sunday night, we set sail for Stockholm on a cruise ship. We shared a berth with A.J. and I ran into author Kyell Gold and one of his friends on the ship so we all ate together and hung out. The scenery was gorgeous, the boat enormous and mazelike and the meals a tad overpriced. But at breakfast in the morning, the coffee choices were a. Moomin coffee or b. Tom of Finland coffee because Finland is awesome. Also, the islands in the Baltic between Finland and Sweden are beautiful. I'm very glad we sailed even though I was pretty groggy when we got there.

Stockholm is a very pretty, very expensive city. We took a cab to our hotel, then wandered over (more walking! Yay!) to a design/tea shop in a ritzy part of town for tea and lunch. The tea was to congratulate A.J. on their recent Vogel Award win - a tradition we started in New Zealand last year. :-) Swedish high tea is heavier on the nonsweet stuff but is quite tasty. After that, we wandered back along the Drottninggatan, which is a pedestrian mall and major shopping thoroughfare.

We found an Astrid Lindgren statue in the park across from the hotel (much smaller statue than the Strindberg one). And the park itself was lovely. Dinner was good, sleep was good and then we got up the next day and walked for blood ever looking for our damn tour bus. I hated my feet and life and anyone who suggested walking further but we did finally find the right stop and the city was pretty fabulous from its upper deck. We went to the ABBA Museum and soaked in all things ABBA for a few hours.

Then we took the water taxi to Old Town, which was epic and lovely and historic. We checked out the charming gay coffeehouse, the science fiction and fantasy bookstore, innumerable shops and parts of the Royal Palace, including the armory where we saw Queen Christina’s coronation coach, before meeting a local author and artist for dinner. Then we headed back, leaving A.J. to chat with her friend, did some frantic packing and foot showering and went to bed. The next day was a last wander of the neighborhood before heading out to the airport, flying to Reykjavik, scrambling between planes and heading home.

Overall, nice people, interesting countries, cool history, lovely scenery, utterly exhausting and fairly painful, through not fault of the countries visited. I’m still a bit loopy and worn down so while I admire my ambition in planning this trip, I think I stretched us too thin. I hope to go back some time and visit each at a more leisurely pace.

April 2017

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