December 1st, 2003



I made it half-way through work today. Then I ran out of tissues, so I took my sniffling self home.

I finished Quicksilver. Maybe it was the fevered state of my brain, but I didn't hate it as much as I expected to, or at all really. Considering the vehement reactions of others whose literary opinions I respect, I'm a little nonplussed. Lowered expectations can do wonders for a work's reception, I guess. It does contain a number of singularly un-heart-pounding pirate battles, I must say. So much so that it almost seems deliberate - "I know, I'll see if I can write a DULL pirate battle! That'll show 'em!" Show them what remains to be elucidated.

Tired now. Time for bed. With luck I'll even do a little sleeping.