Past list view

This month we'll be reading all about "Music with Rocks In" in the Terry Pratchett novel Soul Music. The novel is the first with Susan Sto Helit, as well as one of those rare novels where Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler takes center stage.

As an aside, I know it is hard for some people to make it on time. The meetups with this group are generally informal, so don't feel the need to be there at start time. If you arrive late, that's perfectly ok. Generally the meetings run at least an hour, and often longer.

I hope to see everyone there!

As we're skipping December due to the holidays, we'll be finishing off the Johnny Maxwell series for the month of January. So get ready to read both Johnny and the Dead and Johnny and the Bomb. Get ready for more of the adventures of Johnny Maxwell!

For my inaugural meeting as the group’s new patrician, I am choosing one of my favorite Terry Pratchett books, Small Gods, as the novel for this month. Here is a description of the book for those who may not be familiar:

Discworld is an extragavanza--among much else, it has billions of gods. "They swarm as thick as herring roe," writes Terry Pratchett in Small Gods, the 13th book in the series. Where there are gods galore, there are priests, high and low, and... there are novices. Brutha is a novice with little chance to become a priest--thinking does not come easily to him, although believing does. But it is to Brutha that the great god Om manifests, in the lowly form of a tortoise.

This month we'll be reading Making Money, Terry's latest installment in the Discworld series. Hope you can join us! Here's the synopsis from Booklist:

Moist von Lipwig, the savior of the Ankh-Morpork post office, has gotten settled into a routine. He's filling out forms, signing things, will probably get to be head of the Merchants Association next year, and he hasn't designed a stamp in months. He's so bored, in fact, that he's taken to climbing the walls of the post office and breaking into his own office. Lord Vetinari, always brilliant in his ruthlessness, recognizes an opportunity when he sees one, and offers Moist the job of running the royal mint. Moist tries to refuse, pretending that he's satisfied with the stable life, but he can't deny the urge for adventure and intrigue for long. The mint is, in the finest Ankh-Morpork tradition, a strange and oddly old-fashioned place, with bizarre traditions so ingrained the long-term employees can't imagine doing them any other way. Moist is the perfect innovator, with his wildly creative solutions to problems, for changing the way the entire city thinks about money. In the transition from the gold standard and old money, Pratchett brings up all the details that make Ankh-Morpork one of the most satisfying contemporary fantasy cities and continues in his trend of beautifully crafted, wickedly cutting satire on the underpinnings of modern human society. Making Money is smart, funny, and a thoroughly entertaining read. Schroeder, Regina

Our book for February will be Going Postal. Please join us!

Here's the book description from Google Book Search:

Arch-swindler Moist Van Lipwig never believed his confidence crimes were hanging offenses -- until he found himself with a noose tightly around his neck, dropping through a trapdoor, and falling into ... a government job? By all rights, Moist should have met his maker. Instead, it's Lord Vetinari, supreme ruler of Ankh-Morpork, who promptly offers him a job as Postmaster. Since his only other option is a nonliving one, Moist accepts the position -- and the hulking golem watchdog who comes along with it, just in case Moist was considering abandoning his responsibilities prematurely. Getting the moribund Postal Service up and running again, however, may be a near-impossible task, what with literally mountains of decades-old undelivered mail clogging every nook and cranny of the broken-down post office building; and with only a few creaky old postmen and one rather unstable, pin-obsessed youth available to deliver it. Worse still, Moist could swear the mail is talking to him. Worst of all, it means taking on the gargantuan, money-hungry Grand Trunk clacks communication monopoly and its bloodthirsty piratical head, Mr. Reacher Gilt. But it says on the building neither rain nor snow nor glo m of ni t ... Inspiring words (admittedly, some of the bronze letters have been stolen), and for once in his wretched life Moist is going to fight. And if the bold and impossible are what's called for, he'll do it -- in order to move the mail, continue breathing, get the girl, and specially deliver that invaluable commodity that every human being (not to mention troll, dwarf, and, yes, even golem) requires: hope.