idiot guinea pig

[bunrab]

Boots really is an idiot, even as guinea pigs go. Almost all guinea pigs are absent-minded enough that if they drop a carrot while they're eating it, they'll forget it's there, and go wandering off to steal a different carrot out of another piggie's mouth, because they have no idea where the carrot they just had, has gone to. Boots is worse than that. In mid-chew, he'll forget he has a bite of carrot in his mouth, stop chewing, and look around, and then suddenly, several seconds later, something will startle him, he'll notice he has carrot in his mouth, and go back to chewing that mouthful. Sometimes it takes him several tries to remember to finish and swallow. Sheeeeeee. Good thing he's cute.

I've been re-reading older volumes in ordinary mystery series - nothing special, just stuff where I couldn't remember the book even though I must have read it because I've read everything in the series. So I've just been through 3 Carolyn Hart/Joan Hess books like that, and a Ralph McInerny.

I had taken The Quokka Question out of the library on the basis of the title - how could I resist a murder mystery that involves quokkas? However, I don't think I'll bother finishing it. It's apparently the second in a series, and the series depends entirely on the gimmick that our protagonist is a lesbian, full of assorted unrequited lust for business partners, clients, etc. The dialogue is dreadful, the plot thin to nonexistent after 35 pages, the on-and-off-again Australian slang annoying rather than cute. Perhaps there are people who will read this because it's got a lesbian protagonist, whether or not it's got any other merit, but I think it's rather insulting to assume that that alone would make a book worth reading - as if lesbian readers didn't also want interesting plot, believable dialogue, wit that's actually funny... And as best I can tell, no actual quokkas ever make an appearance, just college professors who are supposedly rival quokka experts; there are no interesting marsupial anecdotes in here.

Also reading current issues of Asimov's, Ellery Queen's, and my usual lot of magazines: science, news, liberal commentary, and weeklies.

Healing is proceeding apace. Itches like crazy. I was able to play my tenor sax through much of this evening's rehearsal - Scott talks enough between pieces that my arm had plenty of time to rest. The tenor really is light, anyway. The bari on Wednesday may be another story entirely. I'm still having to avoid having anything bump me in that shoulder, or hang any messenger bags from it, or try to shrug jackets off with shoulder motions, but just ordinary moving the arm around in front of me doesn't hurt. Gahhh, it itches. (You try it. Try removing a winter jacket without rotating your shoulder backward and moving your arm to behind the plane of your body.) I should be able to take a shower tomorrow without waterproofing, I think - the incision is closed up enough that water will not leak inside and damage the device.

Comments

[miz-geek.livejournal.com]

I hate crappy mystery novels with interesting gimmicks. (Or worse, with stupid gimmicks that seem interesting at first). They just piss me off.

[elfbiter.livejournal.com]

The Quokka Question *snip* the series depends entirely on the gimmick that our protagonist is a lesbian, full of assorted unrequited lust for business partners, clients, etc… as if lesbian readers didn't also want interesting plot, believable dialogue, wit that's actually funny.

Sounds a bit too much like the "lesbians are horny all the time"-cliché...