Friday, January 24, 2014
A peak into S.
I now have a copy of S. by J.J. Abrams and Doug Dorset but since I am preparing for the semester to start and trying to write lecture notes for geochemistry class using a new textbook, I need to focus. **focus**
Okay - that isn't working. I can't resist the small chance to play with my new book so ...
For Book Beginnings on Friday hosted by Rose City Reader here are the first couple of sentences of Ship of Theseus the framing book by the fictitious author V.M. Straka (I am skipping past the Translator's Note and Forward by F. X. Caldeira - which starts "WHO WAS V. M. STRAKA?" and all of the marginalia and the first insert as well)
Dusk. THE Old Quarter of a city where river meets sea.
A man in a dark gray overcoat walks past the Quarter's streets, a tangle of cobblestone passages that spin from the harbor and thread themselves through neighborhoods where the smells of cooking spices vary but the sad decrepitude is shared. The buildings, black with the soot of centuries, loom over him, blocking out most of the sky and making it difficult to know at any given moment whether he is heading towards the water or away from it.
And for The Friday 56 hosted at Freda's Voice here are some things from page 56 of S.
The black text is the text from Ship of Theseus and the blue underlining and text are the marginal notes - I only added one. (There was an insert between 54 and 55 so we just missed one, which is just as well since I am not sure how I would have added that)
He clings to the foremast and raises himself up, breathing heavily, his blood pumping. He watches as Maelstrom descends to the main deck, (where the sailors are transferring unlabeled crates from the hold of the small ship and stowing them below.) What might they contain? Nothing edible, of course; *
* how was that steak, by the way? The one Serin bought?