Ahoy me chums! As I write this, it’s about three in the morning and I’ve been battling quite some bitchin’ insomnia for the last five days or so. At this point, I’m pretty much just running on caffeine fumes and the love of my kitties. So, if this post turns into a prattley, nonsensical hot mess, you’ve been warned!
I don’t have many plans for my three-day weekend. Today, I shall be spending the afternoon with the parentals for some yummy grubs and board gaming mischief. My dad and I will get competitive while my mum and Madame Gabs plot their next cooking project. Overall, it should be a bag of good times. Once I’m home and tucked into bed with Kheb, however, all the socks come off as I try my damndest to get some hoot’n toot’n sleep (why I have become Southern-ish, I dunno; blame the gelatinous insomnia behemoth, I sure as fuck do).
I really hope to be able to spend the next two days lazing around in bed because my body and my mind really need to catch up on recuperation. Aside from napping with feline folx, the activities will be limited to things that won’t require me to physically leave said bed if possible, meaning animu watching and reading, yay!
I’m currently reading one sword and sorcery novel that I started a while ago, but placed on a brief pause due to some insidious sneak-attacks from my ADHD. Now that it seems to be running out of steam (also due to the insomnia monstrosity, yay for one good thing to come out of it), I can pick it back up again. I’m also hoping to start reading some supernatural horror novels I picked up from the libs a week or so ago, and one satirical pulp fantasy type novel that sounded hilariously cheesy. Also, I feel like reading something of that calibre while I’m sleepy-drunk will be super fucking entertaining in the most outrageous of ways. YAS, my body is ready. Sorta.
Sea of Death by Tim Waggoner: Sword and sorcery fantasy that’s the third instalment in my favourite trilogy ever, and it revolves around Diran, Ghaji, and their chums as they try to combat evil shmevil things in the Lhazaar Principalities.
It’s the darkest of all three novels and has some of my favourite action scenes in it, as well as a really unexpected character death that makes me get all sappy every single time. I’ve read about fifty pages of this before I had to put it on hold. I’m looking forward to finishing it up and then having some strange ass fucking dreams about the lycanthrope-esque monsters trying to eat me.
The Chill by Scott Carson: A spoopy supernatural horror novel that revolves around a drowned village in upstate New York beneath the waters of the Chile Waukee reservoir. Destroyed in the early 20th century for some political bullshite, a lot of the original settlers and families were forced from their lands. However, some of them didn’t quite leave. Now, about a hundred years after the fact, an inspector goes poking around to oversee the construction of a dam and realises that more than the village was left behind, and those dark waters are about to rise up and cause some fucking hubbub.
Underwater or drowned villages and cities are a bit of weakness of mine, especially because it’s so uncommon in literature and even more so in horror. When I saw the premise, I just couldn’t fight the curiosity that bubbled over like overcooked chai on the stove.
A House at the Bottom of the Lake by Josh Malerman: This short ghostly horrific tale is about two people who think that going canoeing across a chain of lakes would be romantic. However, these teens quickly discover that there is something below the water’s surface that shall forever change their wee lives. Intrigued by what they find, they decide to dive deeper to investigate, not realising that just because a house is empty, it doesn’t mean that nobody’s fucking home.
Oh looky here, another underwater ghost story of sorts. The low page count also made it intriguing, but I feel because of that it will be rushed and unsatisfying, or lack in atmosphere somehow. Even so, I’m hoping that it turns out decent as shorter horror stories that are actually well-written would be wonderful change of pace for my reading tastes. Also, I kind of hope the silly teenagers die in gloriously spooktastic ways. (I know, I’m a horrible person. Oh wellz.)
Hex-Rated by Jason Ridler: This fantasy detective pulp thing takes place in the 70s and follows a newly licensed PI of the strange and supernatural named James Brimstone, who was a former child magician and a vet of the Korean war. After attending his dead mentor’s funeral, Sir Brimstone signs his first client with an unbelievable story of sex, demons, and violence all taking place on the set of a pornographic film in the San Fernando Valley. Coppers think it’s a bad drug trip, but ol’ Brimstone knows better than those blokes. As he takes on the investigation, what he wasn’t expecting was for everything to get even more chaotic as he encounters the Hell’s Angels, a lost book of Japanese erotica, and some new villains with crazy ass powers fit for spraying the city with blood.
The synopsis is absolutely ridiculous (granted, I used my own phrasing to make it a bit more colourful) and it sounds like a terrible, cheesy ride. This will either become the absolute worst piece of nonsense I have ever read, or the most magnificent. Let’s hope for the latter, but not be surprised if I get bitch-slapped with the former.
Well, that wraps-up my planned reading plans (yes, I know, brilliant word usage… sigh…) for this long-weekend shindig. My summer Uni semester also begins in a week or two, so this may be the last chance I’ll have at being a complete and total potato for a couple days straight. I’m keeping my pink glittery Hello Kitty polish painted nails crossed that nothing arises to interrupt the gloriousness of cat-napping with my cat-nappers. Until next time, keep reading and keep… sleeping. Yeah, let’s go with that.