Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore. A clever and delightful merging of high-tech (Mechanical Turk, Google, 3-D imaging) and very low-tech indeed (an ancient font and a 500-year-old secret hidden in an underground library of books), all underlaid with a sense of the deep importance of friendship and imagination. My only complaint is that I wish it had been longer: there are a lot of fascinating ideas crammed into a fairly short book. On the plus side, that means it never gets boring.

Also a big plus (for me at least) is that the mystery -- while very mysterious -- is kept low-key. That is, there are no car chases, no surprise betrayals by people you thought could be trusted, no one gets shot at, no one has to jump out of a helicopter or climb onto a roof to escape an armed villain, etc. It was such a joy to read something whose power to engross and delight comes not from explosions and close calls, but from strong bonds of friendship on the one hand and exuberant high-tech geekery on the other. The incorporation of high fantasy into the mix is great fun, and the idea of initiates into the organization having to write their own codex vitae as a sort of mystical final exam is really intriguing. (Maybe Sloan will write some of those...) Highly recommended.

(I'm trying to catch up on my book reviews, so tomorrow: a creepy medieval apocalypse. And no, it has nothing to do with it being election day!)

Nice bit from the NY Times summarizing storm damage in the city. The photos of water flooding into a PATH station and highway signs just about the water level are pretty amazing.

Also, NASA has some great footage of Sandy from space!

We have returned safely from our trek to Pennsylvania for the Blackmore's Night concert and the PA Ren Faire, huzzah!

By happy chance (so he says *ahem*) Mr Psmith picked a hotel for Friday that was across the street from not one, not two, but THREE Irish pubs!! So as a prelude to the evening's main event there was well-poured Guinness for Mr Psmith and a nice pinot grigio for me, and a bartender from Leitrim with a GORGEOUS accent (when we asked him how long he had been here, he said "T'ree weeks"). We then "garbed up" and, since the theatre was only two blocks from the hotel, paraded downtown in our Renaissance-y best, nodding regally at mystified passersby. The concert was very good; lots of fellow audience members also in garb, so it was a bit like going to see the 16th century version of Rocky Horror Picture Show, only with less toast and more shawm. Seeing Carl as the opening act on a big stage was great fun, and then Blackmore's Night played for 2-1/2 hours straight -- many old favorites and one or two we didn't know, and Candace's voice was as stunning live as it is on the CDs.

The next morning we had a two-hour drive to the Ren Fair but a luxurious hour to get dressed once we arrived (normally at our "home festival" we have about 20 minutes!). We looked splendid, if I do say so myself, particular Mr Psmith who is quite dashing in doublet, hat, boots and sword :) We strolled the grounds like visiting nobility all day and had quite the time, inspecting the baby dragons (i.e., anole lizards), watching the various minstrels, and eating anachronistic but tasty food items. The PA Faire is more "produced" than our home festival -- for example, all the performers are mic'ed and the joust had theatrical piped-in music that sounded like the soundtrack to Ben Hur! But once you get past the different character it's a fun change of pace. The Faire's theme this year was a fierce competition between Shakespeare and Marlowe, and the "Finale in Song" (which is what PA has instead of a final pubsing) had some very funny bits indeed where they got out of temper and ranted at each other, and the Queen was clearly channeling her Blackadder incarnation. Though as Mr Psmith said, the last number was much more Glee than Tudor. Still, worth the trip if only for the chance to see Empty Hats and trot out our black velvet one more time :)

Mr Psmith scored again with Saturday night's hotel which had an excellent restaurant complete with vegetarian menu (spinach, mushroom and goat cheese quesadillas with chipotle honey glaze -- nomz!!)

We slept in this morning, then headed out and were home by 5pm, well ahead of Hurricane Sandy which was all over the news of course. On the drive home NPR taught us things about Kurt Weil and the Threepenny Opera, and we passed a convoy of five utility trucks which we speculated were being mobilized ahead of the storm. Made me feel rather reassured; not that we're supposed to get more than high winds and an inch or so of rain at Chez Psmith, but still, it's nice to know that people are Planning Ahead. We're happy to be home, and I hope that all of you who are in Sandy's path weather the storm safely and with minimal damage!

The chart that proves just how lacking Middle Earth is in women

Examples of how the Victorians made even their microscope slides look like steampunk masterpieces

A very fun (and painlessly educational!) video about hexaflexagons (don't worry if you don't know what they are -- you will when she's done)

And last but not least, Tim Burton's original poem, "The Nightmare Before Christmas," which eventually became the movie, read by the epically awesome Christopher Lee

You're welcome :)

The New York Times recently ran a feature piece on Justin Cronin's The Passage (which I read and liked VERY much, except for the last page where I suddenly found out IT WAS ONLY BOOK 1). Cronin started out as an author of what many people would probably call literary fiction (e.g., Mary and O'Neil, also very good).

Then he wrote a behemoth of a vampire novel (oh, and two sequels) and sold it for a gazillion bucks, so of course people started saying he'd sold out. But really, what is this artificial distinction between literary fiction and genre fiction? There are tremendously talented and literate authors writing horror, science fiction, fantasy; there are appalling hacks who still get billed and sold as lit fi. Isn't what matters that it's a great story well told?

From the article:

the difference between a literary novel and a genre-oriented one is not usually of much consequence to readers — nor is it particularly apparent to most writers, who tend to see the same blank page no matter what kind of book they sit down to work on. “You write how you write,” Cronin told me. “If I were a calculating careerist, I would not be a novelist.” When I contacted Colson Whitehead, the MacArthur-genius-award-winning author who last year released “Zone One,” a literary novel about a zombie takeover of Manhattan — my message to him included the words “literary” and “genre” — he replied politely that he’d “rather shoot myself in the face” than have another discussion about the difference between one category of literature and another.

On a related (i.e., zombie) note, I'm on Letter 8 of Ora et Labora et Vampires and am quite enjoying it.

"...Here is a book that will break your heart." C.S. Lewis, on The Lord of the Rings.

Benjamin Harff, a German art student, has made this doubly true. He decided for his capstone project to do a hand-illuminated, hand-bound copy of Tolkien's The Silmarillion. He spent six months on it and had the volume bound in leather by a professional hand book-binder (he assisted).

It is the most beautiful thing I've seen, such a remarkable labor of love and art.

Here are pictures, and an interview + more pictures.

In these days of 140-character tweets and instant this-n-that, my heart is reassured when I see evidence of appreciation for Things That Take Time.

Also of course we wants it precious, we wants it!!!

Yes, I am a meme sheep:
( political meme behind the cut )