Greetings, my fellow queer literates!
I haven’t actually fallen off the face of the earth, I’ve just started — of all things — a business selling fetish gear and am actually turning a profit. It’s kind of surreal. It’s also consuming all of my free time, which is why I haven’t had time to read anything except nonfiction books with titles like Online Marketing for Small Business Owners, and even less time to blog about it.
But! Books are my first love and I miss discussing them with y’all folks, so here’s the game: I found a bunch of half-finished writing-about-reading posts that I’d started and then shelved when I couldn’t hammer them into coherent essays. The plan had been to come back and polish them at some later point, but, well, once I’ve moved on to newer and shinier things that’s not likely to happen. So I’m going to be doing a round-up, wrapping up my not-entirely-streamlined essays and tossing them online for public discussion. Your two cents are always welcome! :D
Today’s post is about The Way of Shadows, by Brent Weeks, and how much it pissed me off. If rape is a sensitive issue for you, you may want to skip this one, because WoS fucking button-mashes it.