Free e-books! YAY! Tor.com is giving away a bunch of e-books, but they’re only free through Sunday, July 27th. So crank up your download manager and go book shopping!

MAN, I’ve got to update this more often. This month is kicking my ass, though; I’m taking a really awesome class on ethnicity and race in comics/graphic novels, but the reading is intense and I’ve got to write three papers in five weeks. Urk. Time for a media dump!

I’ve been to the movies a bit lately. WALL-E is beautiful and sweet and charming without being cloying. Kung Fu Panda was hilarious and touching and gorgeously animated. I… er, saw Iron Man again. For the fifth time. I am a fangirl, what can I say? I’ll probably see The Dark Knight on Thursday, and I’m definitely seeing The X-Files: I Want To Believe (or as it should be titled, The X-Files: Incredibly Clunky Subtitle) on Friday. Hellboy is here from Netflix, waiting for me to watch it so I can eventually see Hellboy II: The Golden Army. I want to see Tropic Thunder mainly for Robert Downey, Jr.

The movie industry is out to torture my wallet this summer, seriously.

I’ve been reading lots of comics for class. If you’re looking for some good indie comics, try the Love & Rockets series by the Hernandez brothers. I read Human Diastrophism and Perla La Loca over the weekend, and both are very well-written with interesting artwork. Next up on the comics reading list is four volumes of Lucifer’s Garden of Verses by Lance Tooks and the rest of Stuck Rubber Baby by Howard Cruse. In non-class-related reading, I’m in the middle of The Hippopotamus Pool by Elizabeth Peters. Amelia Peabody = ♥

In video game news, I’m playing Dark Cloud 2 whenever I have a free minute. I love the combination of RPG, dungeon fighter, and worldbuilder, and the animation–particularly the environments–is gorgeous.

So… I’ve wasted enough time that should be used for paper-writing. Well, I’ve wasted enough time blogging. Now I should waste some more time making icons…

I love the Amelia Peabody mysteries. They play upon my love for strong female leads, Egyptology, romance, and a good mystery. I’ve had fun reading all of the books, but this one? Is probably my favorite since Crocodile on the Sandbank.

Yet another enemy is after the Peabody-Emersons, this time to discover the way to the hidden city they found in book 6, The Last Camel Died At Noon. Unfortunately, Emerson is kidnapped and subsequently loses his memory, and aside from trying to discover who is attempting to harm them, Amelia must now try to jog her husband’s memory, which conveniently disappeared back to the time just before they met.

While the amnesia plot device can be rather hackneyed, Peters uses it to revitalize the relationship between Amelia and Emerson. It is at the same time funny and frustrating, particularly for poor Amelia, who must put up with Emerson as he was before she… er, tamed him.

The mystery itself was a delight. I found myself jumping back and forth between suspects, and when all was revealed at the end, I gasped out loud.

Really, I can’t recommend this series highly enough. It’s become my mission in life to convert people to the Way of Amelia Peabody. In the last two weeks, I’ve converted three people. I’m building up good book karma, you see. Help me build up more karma? :D Seriously, if you get a chance, check out this series. You won’t regret it.

In a surprising bit of awesomeness, I WON SOMETHING! YAY! This is cool because I don’t think I’ve won anything awesome since those New Kids On The Block tickets when I was a kid. :D

I won a copy of Ann Aguirre’s Wanderlust, so keep your eyes peeled for a review!

Also keep your eyes peeled for a new feature here at The Discriminating Fangirl: The Poor Woman’s Book Review, for poor suckers like me who do most of their book buying at used bookstores. The first installment will be a review of Elizabeth Peters’s Amelia Peabody Mysteries, books 1 through 7.

There’s no better way to start the morning off right than with some good linkage.

First up: Paperback Writer posts Skiffy Ten, ten links about writing science fiction.

I’m somewhat of a stilted writer. I get ideas, I think about said ideas, and then sometimes I write them down, but I hardly ever bring them to fruition. This is a sucky writing habit, and it’s one I’m working at changing (I actually finished some poems this summer! Woo!). But, er, anyway, most of what I think about writing falls under the umbrella of speculative fiction, and PBW’s links are extremely helpful for anyone interested in dipping their toes (or diving headfirst into) the world of spec fic. My favorite links on this page are Bruce Sterling’s lexicon for SF writing workshops and China Miéville’s short essay on world building.

Which reminds me, I really should re-compile my list of world building resources and post it here.

Next! New promo image from X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Pardon me for a moment, I need to drool over Hugh Jackman’s biceps and shoulders.

…Okay, I’m good. I’m digging all of the sexy shots of Wolvie, don’t get me wrong. I love the fangirl fanservice, but I keep hoping for official shots of the other characters. I want to see Liev Schrieber decked out as Sabretooth. That not-Native-American woman as Silver Fox. That kid from Friday Night Lights as Gambit. Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool, for god’s sake!

C’mon, Fox, toss us a little more than just Jackman in a wifebeater. Though I in no way object to tossing us more Jackman in a wifebeater along the way.

And in very old news, Tom Cruise was approached a few years ago to play Tony Stark in a version of Iron Man that thankfully crashed and burned. Oh dear GOD, can you imagine how horrible that would have been? [clings to Robert Downey, Jr.]

I’m taking a summer class on multi-cultural comics, and that (along with a rather heated discussion in a children’s lit class last spring) got me thinking about labels for this particular form of media.

Do we call ‘em comics or graphic novels?

When I was first introduced to the concept of graphic novels, the term was used to refer to collected comics. Marvel takes six or so issues of X-Men, binds them together, and voilà! A graphic novel. Or a trade paperback. But it’s still comics.

So what the heck do we call this stuff?

Wikipedia defines a graphic novel as “a type of comic book, usually with a lengthy and complex storyline similar to those of novels, and often aimed at mature audiences.” The problem with this definition is that many comic books (single issue-based magazines with sequential art-based storylines) often have lengthy and complex plots. Hell, anyone who’s spent a year reading the X-Men comics can tell you that the plotlines are complex sometimes to the point of obscurity. Wikipedia acknowledges the mutability of the term “graphic novel” and also brings up a point that I think is incredibly important.

Some people use the term “graphic novel” to try to set apart certain titles on the basis of so-called artistic value. Now, this is a slippery slope on the best of days. Artistic value is incredibly subjective; each person is going to have a different view of what defines art. Remember that guy at the museum, bitching about Jackson Pollock? “My three-year-old could make that!” Or the woman who turns her nose up at anything that isn’t modern, because it’s passé?

Though I often use the term, it feels to me that many people do call ‘em graphic novels out of a sense of snobbery. “I don’t read comics. They’re for basement-dwelling fanboys. I read graphic novels.” Gee, you think that term might have been invented by publishers who were just dying to sell more comics, but wanted to paint on a veneer of respectability? Really, whatever the subject matter, it’s the same thing. It’s sequential art. Words and images juxtaposed to create a story. As with any storytelling form, there is an enormous variety of content, and each person is responsible for deciding what floats their boat, what’s valuable to them as a reader. Is it high art? Is it low art?

Who the hell cares? It’s all comics.

For further reading:

• Neil Gaiman’s thoughts on the matter. (scroll a bit to get to the question about comics v. graphic novels)
• Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art by Scott McCloud

Some recommended comics/graphic novels/whatever the heck you want to call them:

• Bill Willingham’s Fables series
• Maus by Art Spiegelman
• Wolverine: Weapon X by Barry Windsor Smith

Also check out my Comics/Graphic Narrative shelf on my GoodReads profile. Graphic narrative! Ooh, how wanky! ;)

Succubus On Top by Richelle Mead

Wow. I really liked the first book in this series, Succubus Blues, but I didn’t expect this one to exceed the first. Succubus On Top is great. It’s funny, it’s sexy, it’s a good mystery, the characters are very likable… I can’t praise this book enough.

We first met Georgina Kincaid, a succubus living in Seattle, in Succubus Blues. Aside from being a temptress employed by Hell, Georgie is an assistant manager at a local bookstore. In this book, she meets up with a very old friend, an incubus she tutored in the ways of seduction a few centuries ago, and she has to figure out what kind of strange drug that’s messing up her mortal friends’ lives.

I think it’s the cast of characters that keeps me hooked on Richelle Mead’s books. Georgina is beautifully created; she’s interesting, funny, and realistically flawed. Her fellow employees of the dark are fantastic supporting characters, from Cody and Peter, the cheerful vampires, to her archdemon boss, Jerome, who looks strangely like John Cusack. I’m really fascinated by Carter, the angel who is, strangely enough, Jerome’s best friend. Aside from the fact that he’s an angel who could double as a grunge kid, there’s just so much under the surface.

And then there’s Seth, Georgina’s mortal, novelist boyfriend. I’m really not fond of novel boyfriends who are just so perfect, but Seth… I want Seth for myself. He’s incredibly smart, creative, witty… I really love the tension that Mead sets up between Georgie and Seth. As a succubus, Georgina can’t have sex with or even kiss Seth deeply without sucking away his life energy. I get the feeling this series of books is going to deal a LOT with how they can maintain their relationship while resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones.

The mystery itself is pretty good, better than the first. The ending feels a bit rushed, but that’s forgivable. Now… to figure out how I’m going to make it to October 2008, when the next book comes out.

Because I need a break from redesigning my websites.

What was the first concert you ever went to? What was your favorite concert? And which concerts do you regret not going to?

My first, at least that I can remember, was New Kids on the Block. I won tickets off of the local pop station back when I was 11 or 12, and my mom took me. Row 27, haha!

My favorite was U2’s Popmart concert in ‘97. It was flashy and over the top, but at the core of it all, the band played a hell of a show. U2 concerts aren’t just concerts; they’re religious experiences.

I really regret missing three concerts. One was the David Bowie/Nine Inch Nails tour in the mid-nineties. ARGH. Second would be Smashing Pumpkins/Garbage, again in the mid-nineties. And the third I even had tickets for. [headdesk] It was the Blockbuster RockFest in 1997, held at the Texas Motor Speedway. It was HUGE. And it was free. And I let my mother talk me out of it. This is the missed concert that makes me want to throw myself down on the floor and have a hissy fit. I missed Bush, the Wallflowers… Counting Crows, for god’s sake, singing “Daylight Fading” as the sun went down. [sob]

Let me preface this review by saying that I’ve been an Indiana Jones fan for as long as I can remember. I was about a year old when Raiders of the Lost Ark came out, and I remember seeing Temple of Doom and Last Crusade in the theatre as a child (both of which scared the crap out of me, and goddamn, did I love it). I spent most of my childhood pretending I was Marion Ravenwood or (during a brief lapse of judgment in terms of characters) Willie What’sherface, running around the back yard with imaginary!Indy.

So, when I heard that Spielberg, Lucas, Ford, et al, were finally making a fourth installment, I was torn between giddy fangirl excitement and complete and utter terror. I mean, I saw the new Star Wars trilogy. I know what George Lucas’s writing is like. In my opinion, he should be allowed to have cool ideas, but he should be forced to then hand over those ideas to someone with more writing talent. And he should be banned from ever again writing any dialogue. Yeesh.

I just got back from seeing Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull for a second time, and… it’s got its ups and downs. Downs would mostly be clunky dialogue and the occasional situation that pushes the boundaries of suspended disbelief. Ups… well, it’s Indiana Jones, for heaven’s sake.

I was pleased as punch to see Marion Ravenwood back in Indy’s life; I always thought it was stupid for Indy to bedhop his way through the movies, and Marion was by far my favorite of Indy’s women. Karen Allen looked like she was having the time of her life in the role, and I had fun watching her. Shia LeBeouf was fantastic as Mutt Williams. The character could have been one-dimensional, but Shia plays it complex; in nearly every scene, we get to see a new side of Mutt.

Harrison Ford… well, he still looks like someone’s grandpa instead of the Indy we’re used to, but he plays the aging archaeologist/adventurer with aplomb and obvious enjoyment. The couple of self-deprecating quips about his age are well-placed and add just the right amount of teasing reference to the nineteen years that have passed since the last installment.

Good GOD, has it really been nineteen years?!

Ahem. Anyway. The best way to watch this movie is to sit back, shrug your shoulders, and say, “What the hell.” After making my inner nitpicker shut up, I had a hell of a lot of fun watching this movie. Mild spoilers after the jump.

(more…)

Good morning, dear readers. I’m kicking back with a cup of Irish Breakfast tea, watching some documentary about The Queen Mary 2 (it came on after a documentary on Easter Island…), and thinking about getting up and getting ready for work. You’ll notice that I’m not watching The X-Files.

This is unusual, you see.

I started watching The X-Files in 1995, during the summer between seasons 2 and 3. I caught a rerun of “Die Hand Die Verletzt”, and it scared the holy crap out of me. It was awesome. I caught as many reruns as I could, then dove headfirst into season 3. I watched regularly through season 5, and because I was living in Germany during season 6, I watched those eps as a friend sent me videotapes. Unfortunately, season 7 started to lose me, and by the time 8 rolled around, I’d given up.

Like many fans, I watched the show not for the convoluted mythology or the monsters-of-the-week, but for the interaction between Mulder and Scully. When David Duchovny left for (theoretically) greener pastures, I lost interest. Not that Doggett wasn’t a good character (I refuse to say anything about Reyes), but… the show had lost the witty interaction, the tension that Mulder and Scully brought to the screen.

Years went by, rumors of a second film floating around the dark corners of the internet… and suddenly they weren’t rumors anymore.

Cue me doing an ecstatic fangirl dance. And spending way too much money on X-Files seasons on DVD from Amazon. Hey, I can’t keep watching old videotapes forever, can I? ;)

After helter skelter watching, I’ve settled down into a serious rewatch of seasons 1 through 6 (with Mulder/Scully shippery highlights in seasons 7 and 9, heh). If you’re curious, you can check out my rewatch commentary here.

The new movie is coming out in July, and I’m trying to stay as spoiler-free as possible, though the urge to run out and look for new pictures is sometimes overwhelming. It’s so exciting, to have a reunion looming on the horizon. Here’s hoping the movie is as awesome as, say, season 5.