Feb. 25th, 2011

nilchance: original art from a vintage print; art of a woman being struck by lightning (sparky is my antidrug)
This is my book rant:

I do not require much of my books. Most times, I don't even require that they not suck. This is why I read Laurell K Hamilton. But right now, because I'm sick and stressed from the Maryland gay marriage voting process, I require the following: if there are cute animals involved, don't fucking kill them.

Apparently this is a lot to ask.

Aww look, a cute talking dog. I like those. But I am suspicious, I know a dead talking dog would just ruin my fucking day, and so I went and looked to check the safety and welfare of the dog. Call it Schrodinger's Talking Dog. I know how these things go in science fiction. If you are a cute animal, and you bring the only humor to a dark universe, you are a walking example of the ticking clock mortality of everything the protagonist loves. Even better if it's a pointless and horrible death! You are the Toto in the Refrigerator.

I get it, not everybody has this trigger, but. Were most authors published today ritually whacked upside the head with a copy of Where the Red Fern Grows?

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nilchance: original art from a vintage print; art of a woman being struck by lightning (Default)
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