Fling...

So, I've been reading The Subtle Knife, by Philip Pullman, and was really enjoying it, even moreso than The Golden Compass. Last night I was having some computer connectivity issues, so I decided to turn off the machine, and just plow through the last eighty pages. So I finished it. It is to my credit, I think, that I did not fling the book across the room when I was done.

( Cranky McRantypants Continues... )

I was originally going to continue right into The Amber Spyglass (I even got it in hard cover), but I've completely lost interest. I just don't care as I did at the end of The Golden Compass. I have a new Sharpe novel I can work on instead.