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A breath

Despite it all, I took some time this weekend to have a nice quiet breakfast and so forth, and since I broke away from my Neighborhood Diner obsession I thought I’d take note of it. Also, I wanted to write about something peaceful.

I went down to the Rosebud Diner in Davis Square, since I needed to pick up comics anyhow. I hadn’t been so impressed by it last time I went there, but this time I got the steak omelette and man that was the right choice. Fairly tender steak and lots of cheese, and I’m sure it says something about me that meat and cheese together make up most of my ideal meals. The coffee, well… the great thing about the Rosebud is that you don’t so much have to worry about the coffee, cause when you’re done with the meal you can saunter on down to the Someday and veg out for hours on comfy chairs drinking quality black manna. Very nice.

I also read a solid chunk of Deadhouse Gates, the second novel in the Malazan Empire sequence, whilst at the Someday. Sequence? Cycle, epic, something like that. I must admit that while writing my previous entry on the Malazan Empire books I caught myself being pleased about the prospect of reading thousands of pages of comforting sameness. Sometimes I get lazy; what can I say? However, Deadhouse Gates leaves the vast majority of characters from Gardens of the Moon behind and sets out on completely new territory. Also, Erikson’s dropped a lot of the Glen Cookisms and found more of his own voice. (Sorry, Kruppe, but once one’s read the Mocker it’s hard to miss the echos.)

Thus, I’m feeling better about my frothing fanboy nature. I have confidence, and I have a novel set on a whole new continent to read. It made for a nice morning.

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