I terrified of ear candles, love dogs and alcohol, and should get back to work. My secret ukulele name is "Hygrophorus."
Jefe, would you say I have a plethora of pandas?
Since the global population is projected to grow throughout the century—to eight billion by 2025, nine billion by 2050, and almost eleven billion by 2100...
Some people see a full glass overflowing with human flesh, while others see more opportunities to offer creepy backrubs to strangers.
Everyone I know from Trawna is an extremely smart, gifted writer that would make me feel tiny by comparison, were they not so disturbingly deferential and polite. And that makes it all the worse. Seriously, Torontulas, belly up to the bellicose bar.
I'm more concerned about the drugs.
What if it's a glue gun? Am I more likely to be Martha Stewart?
Especially when the group is all wearing black, since it's slimming.
On iLine iShort
Well, if they're serving Cronuts, then OK.
Is it too much to hope the dearth of Pappy Van Winkle is all imaginary, too?
@Niko Bellic Uh, excuse me, it was you who provided an unsolicited dismissal of my critique. And at the same time, you now expect me to have read your earlier opinions? Sorry, but that's fantastically naive.
Dude, you're giving my comment the same critical discernment most of Card's fans give his fiction. Which is to say you're a fan boy. Sorry to tread mud on your pristine carpet, but I continue to read a rather enormous amount of scifi. And as an *adult*, come to expect more than clearly you do.
I defy you to read any one of Phillip K. Dick's novels and find a similar rythm of chapter-by-chapter challenge/catharsis. Or any one of Allistair Reynold's vastly more imaginative generation ship novels and find a single messianic figure – much less characters that don't die. And the utter dearth of a sense of humor? Certainly unworthy of Iain M. Banks.
Every single plot movement of that book is utterly predictable for any child above the age of 10. It's an egregious dumbing down of the genre. Jesus fucking christ, look at the Tripod Trilogy for a how-to in writing for young adults.
But your mileage may vary. Maybe when you go to piñata party, you suspend disbelief and never know for sure what's going to happen when you beat that paper maché donkey with a stick. As for me, I know that beating the self-loathing homo Scott Orson Card would be immensely more satisfying.