Ah, Moist von Lipwig.  As I read through the last few Discworlds, I realize I pine for the older ones.  I miss Rincewind, and the elder Barbarians and the original three Witches.  The Lipwig books give Vetinari a chance to shine, and those are always worth it.  And they’re the Bloom County rut of the Disc.  I always enjoy the Discworld books, but never get as agog as some.  Only four or five left, I believe.

I can finally say it: I don’t like hard science fiction.  I’ve tried the best.  I even love Stross’s Laundry Files, but I can’t fucking stand the space stuff.  It is not for me.  It is entirely my failing.  If someone were to tell me this is their favorite novel, I wouldn’t even bat an eye.  But while I dig the space opera, and the Star Wars-ian stuff, I just can’t get into the actual practical sci-fi.  I accept my failing.

A dystopian novel set in an alternate universe post-Katrina, where a hurricane devastated the Gulf Coast and then endless storms ravage the region.  The US Government offered sanctuary to the survivors and then drew a line and gave up the region below it.  It’s a ponderous, morose novel in the vein of McCarthy, and while it’s not as explosive or engaging as the Walking Dead or Hunger Games, it’s more mature and dreary.  If you walked The Road and dug that, give this a gander.