Unconscious Inertia

My plan to update twice a week has, clearly, not borne fruit.

One big—essential, even—part of being a technically-oriented person who is trying to write is consciously ignoring all that technical stuff, because it’s solely a distraction. It’s incredibly easy to get bogged down in the weeds of getting the production pipeline exactly right in each jot and tittle. It’s like a car mechanic spending so much time trying to get optimum performance out of his engine that he never actually, y’know, drives anywhere. So on the one hand, switching from Technology A to Technology B for this blog has little value if it means posts don’t get published.

On the other hand, part of the reason I haven’t been writing posts anyway is because of my dissatisfaction at dealing with Technology A. It’s nice to have an application I can just put words in and hit Publish, but the price for that is a certain lack of flexibility and frustration (and also some bugs).

So, last weekend, I experimented with a Technology B, which would be greatly more flexible—but importantly also comes with some good defaults so I don’t have to reïnvent the wheel on everything. (When I first began this project, I considered writing my own blog software. I am strictly speaking capable of this, but decided against it, as, again, it would leave me no time to actually write posts.) In particular, I looked at how much of a pain it would be to lift-and-shift existing content. It turns out that, though a bit of manual work, it is not that difficult or time-consuming: essentially, copy-and-paste. This means I can easily and with a clear conscience continue to write in Technology A until Technology B is fully set up and running.

So:

  • Look for changes in the website coming Real Soon Now.
  • Those of you reading via email subscription can ignore all the above, because that’s handled separately, and in a way that it doesn’t even matter what is used to generate the site.
  • Not that anybody cares, but Technology A is WriteFreely and Technology B is Nikola.

#100DaysToOffload #meta #software

I recently read Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Tombs of Atuan. This was technically a reread for me, but the last time I read it, the century had not yet turned—and in any case, I remembered nothing about it, other than something about a cave or tunnels.

The Tombs of Atuan is quite good, but I see why it is, perhaps, less popular than some of Le Guin’s other works. It’s a sequel to A Wizard of Earthsea, but where Earthsea is practically a fairy tale in tone, stylized and sonorous (which is an endorsement, not a criticism, by the way), Atuan is more directly a “fantasy novel.” It is not, however, a comforting one, not one where all the pieces fall together nicely, everybody’s problem is solved, the main characters fall in love, and so forth.

It is a story of beginnings, I think: first of the protagonist’s life as Arha, and then, the re-beginning—or perhaps better said, the resumption of the beginning—of it as Tenar. The quest which is completed, for the Ring of Erreth-Akbe, is Ged’s quest, not Tenar’s; and as such is mentioned only in passing, only enough as needed to satisfy plotting, since this is her story, not Ged’s. She escapes: with his help, she sees through the lies and shackles laid upon her as Arha, and so she sails with Ged to his own lands, where he has promised he will make a place for her, first, temporarily, with the “princes and rich lords” and eventually, more permanently, with his own master and teacher, the wise mage Ogion, none of whom she has ever known. The book ends as they have sailed into the harbor with the Ring, whose magic promises peace and order:

Tenar sat in the stern, erect, in her ragged cloak of black. She looked at the ring about her wrist, then at the crowded, many-colored shore and the palaces and the high towers. She lifted up her right hand, and sunlight flashed on the silver of the ring. A cheer went up, faint and joyous on the wind, over the restless water. Ged brought the boat in. A hundred hands reached to catch the rope he flung up to the mooring. He leapt up onto the pier and turned, holding out his hand to her. ‘Come!’ he said smiling, and she rose, and came. Gravely she walked beside him up the white streets of Havnor, holding his hand, like a child coming home.

She may be like a child coming home, in the sense that, having begun her new reassumed life, she must trust him, and he leads her, but the irony is that however much like that child she may be, she cannot go home, for at this point in the story she has no home. Nor do any of those purportedly “joyous” actually know her; they only see what the ring she wears represents. All that she had is gone, and even Ogion’s wisdom is only a promise for the future. For her, however gravely (and bravely) she faces it, there is no indication here of what happens next—her quest has just begun.

Compare it to the ending of A Wizard of Earthsea, where Ged, having sought and defeated the “shadow” with the help of his friend Estarriol, returns to the latter’s home island, where his sister waits for them.

[T]he voyage to Iffish was not long. They came in to Ismay harbor on a still, dark evening before snow. They tied up the boat Lookfar that had borne them to the coasts of death’s kingdom and back, and went up through the narrow streets to the wizard’s house. Their hearts were very light as they entered into the firelight and warmth under that roof; and Yarrow ran to meet them, crying with joy.

This is the end of the arc, not the beginning. It’s a quieter but more real homecoming, to hearth and family and the promise of belonging. The contrast to the end of Tenar’s story could not be more striking. She has only possibility, and hope.

Besides what I’ve noted above, there is another aspect to the book’s realism, too, which Le Guin herself notes in the afterward in the edition I have.

Some people have read the story as supporting the idea that a woman needs a man in order to do anything at all (some nodded approvingly, others growled and hissed). Certainly Arha/Tenar would better satisfy feminist idealists if she did everything all by herself. But the truth as I saw it, and as I established it in the novel, was that she couldn't. My imagination wouldn't provide a scenario where she could, because my heart told me incontrovertibly that neither gender could go far without the other. So, in my story, neither the woman nor the man can get free without the other…. Each has to ask for the other's help and learn to trust and depend on the other. A large lesson, a new knowledge for both these strong, willful, lonely souls.

Not really in line with the sort of individualistic ethos which held sway when Le Guin was writing, and still holds most of society in its grip today.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying, my point is that The Tombs of Atuan disappoints, potentially, both those who loved A Wizard of Earthsea and wanted more, not something different, as well as those—though surely the groups aren’t mutually exclusive—who want escapism, not realism, out of their fantasy. (Not that Earthsea is escapist in that sense either.) But even if those describe you, I still think you should read Atuan. Just know what you’re getting into.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#100DaysToOffload #reviews #books

This is my tiny blog/newsletter. No one is sponsoring me, or would be interested in sponsoring me. This is not to make a request for, or even to express a desire for, sponsors.

But doing the 100 Days to Offload has me writing more, and so I naturally wonder what it’d be like to do this professionally. People do, to one degree or another. Maybe one day (or not).

Anyway, as I say, this is not a sponsored post, but I wanted to write about a product I use, just because I like it: HEY. HEY’s pitch is essentially “what if we designed the email experience from scratch, but using the lessons of the last 40 years? (and also blocked tracking pixels)”—and, just one man’s opinion, but I think it really does live up to the hype. It’s not free ($99/year as I write this), but I much prefer being a customer to being the product.

I don’t feel like I can do a better job than their own site does of showing off its features, so check it out there.

#100DaysToOffload #email

A few days ago, I had a conversation with my older kids—who, like me, are fairly voracious readers—about books, and one of the things that came up was how to think about the relative ranking of what we read. I can see myself using some of these posts to review or talk about things I’ve read, so before I do that, I want to give some context.

My contention is that the measure of a good book is how well it rewards rereading. Sudden plot twists and excitement are all well and good, but when rereading I often find they are, actually, cover and distraction for suboptimal writing or plotting. And it works! “Why didn't I notice this plot hole the first time I read this!?” has come out of my mouth more times than I like admitting. But a good book, I think, should be enjoyable on the third or fifth or twelfth read as well as the first—perhaps not quite in the same way, of course. But then, on the twelfth read, you’re probably not quite the same reader, either.

A corollary to this is that—contrary to what the Internet at large appears to believe—spoilers are good, actually. I don’t necessarily suggest that you go around telling the endings of things to people who don’t want to hear them, to be clear. That seems impolite. But a not-terrible heuristic for whether to keep reading a book is “Would I still read this if I already knew the plot?”

So, for what it’s worth, and in the hope that it would be useful to anyone else considering the media they consume, here is the rating scheme I use—and I’ve concentrated on books above, but (though I rarely watch anything) the same applies to movies, mutatis mutandis, though with movies the concerns are also more multifaceted. It is perfectly reasonable to, for example, thoroughly dislike the plot of a movie, yet still find it worth watching, and even rewatching,because of the acting, or the cinematography, or the sound design, and so forth. Substitute “watch” for “read” as appropriate.

  • ⭐️: I either did not finish this, or could tell without beginning it that I would not like it.
  • ⭐️⭐️: I finished this, but in some measure I regret doing so. It is unlikely I will ever read it again.
  • ⭐️⭐️⭐️: I finished this, and do not regret it. It is unlikely I will ever read it again.
  • ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️: I finished this, and will probably read it again if the opportunity presents itself.
  • ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️: I finished this, and will definitely read it again. I want to own this, so I can read it whenever the mood strikes me.

Interestingly, I rarely find myself classifying something in the last category on the initial read: it’s much more often that I rank something as 4 stars—and then realize on the third or fourth read that it was actually 5 stars all along. Likely that says something about my self-awareness.

#100DaysToOffload #books #movies

As I write this, it’s 14°F/-10°C, there’s snow on the ground (a little bit, anyway), and both my driveway and the road in front of my house are iced-over and impassable. I know this is business-as-usual for January in many parts of the world, but for Mississippi, this is very much not normal. We laid in a cord of wood in preparation—experience has shown that at these temperatures the front room can be made bearable, if not pleasant, with a fire in the fireplace—but the power has so far stayed on (fortunately).

The school district has cancelled classes, as has my wife’s employer. I, however, am still working today, provided the power continues to hold up.

#100DaysToOffload #diary

Despite there being no rule about posts being on any sort of schedule in the 100 Days to Offload manifesto, I had good intentions about establishing a Tuesday/Thursday cadence for these posts, just to provide a bit more structure for myself. But here it is, Wednesday nonetheless, as I write this.

As I mentioned in № 1, my children went back to school this week, to their likely relief. But with them going back comes a daily flurry of all the irritating text messages the school district sends out about transportation issues and reminders about assignments or tests. The ones about transportation—i.e., such-and-such a bus route is starting late, or will be driven by a substitute driver, or will be consolidated with an adjacent route, and so forth—are, individually, unworryingly practical. Their frequency does mildly concern me—but I suspect buses are like tanks in their need for maintenance, and so it shouldn’t be surprising that some one (or more) of them needs work on any given day.

I am more irritated by the ones which say “Don’t forget such-and-such assignment!” or “Testing coming up!” These schoolkids already have district-issued iPads and Macbooks bombarding them with notifications and reminders; enlisting their parents seems a little unfair—or at least liable to encourage helicopter parenting and a default of making the adults responsible rather than the kids. As Proverbs 23:6 says:

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

And frankly that’s for good or for ill. So mostly I try to ignore these reminders unless it’s particularly egregious or impactful, and I feel like I need to bring it up. (The way to teach children responsibility is to give them responsibility and, therefore, consequences; but that doesn’t mean we can’t remember that they are still kids and cut them some slack sometimes.)

Incidentally, I learnt today that Proverbs 23:6 is one of the differences between the Septuagint and the Masoretic Text. It simply isn’t in the LXX. I don’t have a point here, I just thought it was odd.

I signed up for HEY email today for one of my domains. After going through some of their website and videos, I realized that they’re doing out of the box some of the things I have been trying to make happen manually with email rules—do this if the email is from this sender, or that if it has a this subject, and so forth. I don’t care for the fact that it’s a proprietary system, but I see why it is: obviously (as I have found) the kind of things they’re doing aren’t well-supported with existing protocols and applications.

#100DaysToOffload #childrearing #education #email

It’s been another full day. I got the formal confirmation at work from the VP over me of both a raise and a promotion, the latter meaning I’ll have to manage people again, something I’ve—well, avoided would be too strong a term, but which I’ve pointedly failed to advocate for during the last several years, let us say. Today, purely coincidentally, I also listened to an episode of the podcast The Holy Post from 2019, in which Skye Jethani did an interview with Dr. Eugene Habecker on the subject of leadership.

So naturally, I’ve been thinking about leadership off and on the rest of the day. There’s been too much said on the topic, both good and bad (Habecker was pretty good, I thought), for me to have much to add. But one thing I think doesn’t get talked about enough is that to be a good leader—in addition to requiring humility, transparency, honesty, dedication, and so forth—just isn’t very much fun. It’s a lot of work! Worth it, often, but still not easy or—again, often—enjoyable.

#100DaysToOffload #leadership

The opening of the the Third Hour in a binder on a music stand

I meant to write this earlier—before New Year’s Day, in fact. But in days full of church, children, family, and work, I didn’t set aside the time. And now it’s January 3rd: not quite New Year’s Day, but close enough for rhetorical purposes, I guess.

It’s hard to escape the cultural conviction that a new year’s beginning means a reëvaluation of one’s life and a rededication to living better—or maybe to just do the things one ought to have been doing the whole time. Like many people, I have good intentions for the rest of the year: pray more, eat better (or at least, plan out meals better), exercise, engage more with family and friends, read good books, and so on. But of course, I’ve had good intentions in previous years too: the track record isn’t looking so hot.

But one thing evidence shows I can do is talk—my mother has told me several times I could argue with a brick wall and win—and by extension, that means I can write; though whether you’ll want to read it is another question. So while I’ve chosen to set the 100 Days to Offload challenge as my goal, fortunately, the rules—such as they are—provide that “Posts don’t need to be long-form, deep, meaningful, or even that well written,” nor do they have to be posted on any particular day or schedule (though I’m aiming for twice a week). You’ve been warned.

This is the last week of school holidays. The kids are tired of sitting around the house, with mom and dad grumbling at them to pick up and clean up after yourself and don’t do that to your sister and be nice to your brother and use your inside voice—and all the things parents say and have to say to their children. Even though next week will bring the end of staying up late and sleeping in, I think they’re ready to get back to classes and homework. My wife too is already looking towards what her own semester will bring: in addition to the usual crop of students, yet more travel for recruiting, and continued work on the department’s accreditation and all the administrative tasks that go with that.

As for myself, I’ve been considering my own working life in 2024. This year will mark a full decade with one employer. There aren’t many things in my life that I’ve done longer. I have to admit, there’s a part of me that’s restless and chafes a bit at that—“Move on! Find some place new!” it growls. I’m not completely opposed, I suppose. But I like my coworkers and the work I’m doing; there’s no sense in doing the same thing somewhere else. A move would have to be both quite different (and, frankly, equally lucrative) to attract me.

I’ll end here. I’ve got 99 more posts to fill, after all!

#100DaysToOffload #family #work

I like to read, and I read quickly. This is a list of all the things I read in 2023, by order of when I finished them. In August, I began to keep track of short-form works (journal articles, short stories, and so forth) as well.

A checkmark (✓) indicates a reread.

  1. Ann Leckie. Ancillary Sword. New York: Orbit, 2014. ✓
  2. Ann Leckie. Ancillary Mercy. New York: Orbit, 2015. ✓
  3. Hannah Fry. Hello World: Being Human in the Age of Algorithms. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2019.
  4. G. K. Chesterton. The Wisdom of Father Brown. Project Gutenberg, 1995.
  5. Orson Scott Card. The Lost Gate. New York: Tor, 2010. ✓
  6. Orson Scott Card. The Gate Thief. New York: Tor, 2013. ✓
  7. Nicholas Kotar. The Son of the Deathless. New York: Waystone Press, 2022.
  8. Sergei Hackel. Pearl of Great Price: The Life of Mother Maria Skobtsova 1891–1945. Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1982.
  9. Robert Graves. I, Claudius. New York: Vintage Books, 1989. ✓
  10. Rex Stout. Champagne for One. New York: Random House, 2010. ✓
  11. Monica Marier. Must Love Dragons. Self-published, 2023.
  12. Philip Kerr. The Lady from Zagreb. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2015. ✓
  13. A. S. Byatt. Possession: A Romance. New York: Vintage Books, 1991. ✓
  14. Philip Kerr. The Other Side of Silence. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2016. ✓
  15. Philip Kerr. Prussian Blue. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2017. ✓
  16. Roger Zelazny. Nine Princes in Amber. Published in The Great Book of Amber: The Complete Amber Chronicles, 1–10. New York: Avon Books, 1999.
  17. Philip Kerr. Greeks Bearing Gifts. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2018. ✓
  18. Roger Zelazny. The Guns of Avalon. Published in The Great Book of Amber: The Complete Amber Chronicles, 1–10. New York: Avon Books, 1999.
  19. Philip Kerr. Metropolis. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2019. ✓
  20. Lois McMaster Bujold. Ethan of Athos. New York: Baen Books, 1986.
  21. J. R. R. Tolkien. The Hobbit, or, There and Back Again. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2012. ✓
  22. Roger Zelazny. Sign of the Unicorn. Published in The Great Book of Amber: The Complete Amber Chronicles, 1–10. New York: Avon Books, 1999.
  23. Steven Brust. Tsalmoth. New York: Tor, 2023.
  24. C. S. Lewis. The Horse and His Boy. New York: HarperCollins, 2000. ✓
  25. H. G. Wells. The Time Machine. Project Gutenberg, 2004. ✓
  26. Peachy Keenan. Domestic Extremist: A Practical Guide to Winning the Culture War. Washington, DC: Regnery Publishing, 2023.
  27. Marcus Tullius Cicero. Letters to Atticus, vol. 2. trans. E. O. Winstedt. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1987.
  28. Charles Dickens. A Tale of Two Cities. New York: Knopf, 2003. ✓
  29. P. G. Wodehouse. The Pothunters. Project Gutenberg, 2004.
  30. P. G. Wodehouse. A Prefect’s Uncle. Project Gutenberg, 2004.
  31. Alexander Afanasyev, et al. Russian Tales: Traditional Stories of Quests and Enchantments. trans. Jeremiah Curtin, et al. San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 2021.
  32. Lord Dunsany. The King of Elfland’s Daughter. New York: Del Rey, 1999.
  33. Lauren Kessler. Clever Girl: Elizabeth Bentley, the Spy Who Ushered in the McCarthy Era. New York: HarperCollins, 2003.
  34. Judy H. Tucker, ed. Growing Up in Mississippi. Jackson, MS: University Press of Mississippi, 2008.
  35. H. Rider Haggard. Allan Quatermain. Project Gutenberg, 2004.
  36. Maggie Estep. Diary of an Emotional Idiot. New York: Harmony Books, 1997. ✓
  37. Nin Harris. “Violets on the Tongue." Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine, April 2018.
  38. Iain M. Banks. Consider Phlebas. New York: Orbit, 2008. ✓
  39. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. Stories and Prose Poems. trans. Michael Glenny. New York: Penguin, 1973.
  40. G. K. Chesterton. The Innocence of Father Brown. Project Gutenberg, 2008. ✓
  41. Gennady Andreev-Khomiakov. Bitter Waters: Life and Work in Stalin’s Russia. trans. Ann E. Healy. Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1997. ✓
  42. Howard Andrew Jones. The Desert of Souls. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2011. ✓
  43. Hisam ibn al-Kalbi. The Book of Idols. trans. Nabih Amin Faris. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1952.
  44. Carrie Frederick Frost. Church of Our Granddaughters. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2023.
  45. Willa Cather. Death Comes for the Archbishop. New York: Vintage Books, 1971.
  46. Howard Andrew Jones. The Bones of the Old Ones. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2011. ✓
  47. Howard Andrew Jones. The Waters of Eternity. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2011. ✓
  48. Lawrence Watt-Evans. The Misenchanted Sword. NPP: Wildside Press, 2013. ✓
  49. A Que. “Farewell, Doraemon.” trans. Emily Jin and Ken Liu. Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine 140 (May 2018).
  50. Pat Murphy and Paul Doherty. “Cold Comfort.” Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine 140 (May 2018).
  51. Michael F. Flynn. “In Panic Town, on the Backward Moon.” Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine 140 (May 2018).
  52. Shaun Stalzer. “The Piazza Brothers: From Italian Immigrants to Industry Leaders in Mississippi, 1853–1914.” Journal of Mississippi History 85, no. 1 and 2 (Spring/Summer 2023): 65–94.
  53. Michael B. Ballard. “Wrong Job, Wrong Place: John C. Pemberton’s Civil War.” Journal of Mississippi History 75, No. 4 (Winter 2013): 3–9.
  54. Xing He. “Your Multicolored Life.” trans. Andy Dudak. Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine 141 (June 2018).
  55. Karin Lowachee. “Meridian.” Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine 141 (June 2018).
  56. Gary D. Joiner. “The Naval War in Mississippi.” Journal of Mississippi History 75, No. 4 (Winter 2013): 11–19.
  57. John F. Marszalek. “Ulysses S. Grant and the Strategy of Camaraderie.” Journal of Mississippi History 75, No. 4 (Winter 2013): 21–25.
  58. Rudyard Kipling. Plain Tales from the Hills. Project Gutenberg, 1999.
  59. C. S. Lewis. A Grief Observed. New York: Harper Collins, 1994.
  60. Rudyard Kipling. Captains Courageous. Project Gutenberg, 2000. ✓
  61. D. J. Butler. Witchy Eye. Riverdale, NY: Baen, 2017.
  62. Victoria E. Bynum. “Newt Knight and the Free State of Jones: Myth, Memory, and Imagination.” Journal of Mississippi History 75, No. 4 (Winter 2013): 27–36.
  63. Lawrence Watt-Evans. The Wizard Lord. New York: Tor Books, 2006. ✓
  64. Lawrence Watt-Evans. The Ninth Talisman. New York: Tor Books, 2007. ✓
  65. Lawrence Watt-Evans. The Summer Palace. New York: Tor Books, 2008. ✓
  66. A. Lee Martinez. Gil’s All Fright Diner. New York: Tor Books, 2005. ✓
  67. A. Lee Martinez. A Nameless Witch. New York: Macmillan, 2007. ✓
  68. A. Lee Martinez. The Last Adventure of Constance Verity. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2016. ✓
  69. Ursula K. Le Guin. A Wizard of Earthsea. New York: Bantam Books, 1975. ✓
  70. Corey J. Stephan. “Catechisms, Communion, and Latin Scholastic Reception of Byzantine Thought: St. John Damascene’s De fide orthodoxa in St. Bonaventure’s Breviloquium.” Nova et Vetera, English Edition, Vol. 19, No. 4 (2021): 1215–1235.
  71. K. E. Mills. The Accidental Sorceror. London: Orbit Books, 2008. ✓
  72. K. E. Mills. Witches Incorporated. London: Orbit Books, 2009. ✓
  73. K. E. Mills. Wizard Squared. London: Orbit Books, 2010. ✓
  74. K. E. Mills. Wizard Undercover. London: Orbit Books, 2012. ✓
  75. Alice-Mary Talbot, ed. Holy Women of Byzantium: Ten Saints Lives in English Translation. Washington, DC: Dumbarton Oaks, 1996.
  76. Michael W. Lucas. PAM Mastery. Detroit: Tilted Windmill Press, 2016.
  77. Glen Cook. Sweet Silver Blues. New York: ROC, 1987. ✓
  78. Glen Cook. Bitter Gold Hearts. New York: Signet, 1988. ✓
  79. Henry Winterfeld. Detectives in Togas. New York: Harcourt, Brace, and World, 1965.
  80. Glen Cook. Cold Copper Tears. New York: ROC, 1988. ✓
  81. Glen Cook. Old Tin Sorrows. New York: Penguin, 1989. ✓
  82. Glen Cook. Dread Brass Shadows. New York: Penguin, 1990. ✓
  83. P. G. Wodehouse. Right Ho, Jeeves. Project Gutenberg, 2004. ✓
  84. Glen Cook. Red Iron Nights. New York: New American Library, 1991. ✓
  85. Glen Cook. Deadly Quicksilver Lies. New York: ROC, 1994. ✓
  86. Glen Cook. Petty Pewter Gods. New York: ROC, 1995. ✓
  87. Glen Cook. Faded Steel Heat. New York: ROC, 1999. ✓
  88. Cyril Gary Jenkins. “The Wasteland of Tolkien’s Disenchanted World.” Amid Weeping There Is Joy: Orthodox Perspectives on Tolkien’s Fantastic Realm. Emmaus, PA: Basilian Media & Publishing, 2021: 9–35.
  89. Michael Haldas. “Seen and Unseen: Choice, Free Will, and the Guiding Hand of Providence in Tolkien.” Amid Weeping There Is Joy: Orthodox Perspectives on Tolkien’s Fantastic Realm. Emmaus, PA: Basilian Media & Publishing, 2021: 37–57.
  90. Glen Cook. The Tyranny of the Night. New York: Tor, 2006. ✓
  91. Glen Cook. Lord of the Silent Kingdom. New York: Tor, 2007. ✓
  92. Glen Cook. Surrender to the Will of the Night. New York: Tor, 2010. ✓
  93. Ross Macdonald. The Moving Target. New York: Vintage Crime, 1998.
  94. P. G. Wodehouse. Jeeves in the Offing. London: Arrow Books, 2008.
  95. Ross Macdonald. The Drowning Pool. New York: Vintage Crime, 1996.
  96. W. Jardine Grisbrooke. “The Eastern Rite in the Western Parish.” St. Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly, Vol. 9, No. 2 (1965): 75–82.
  97. Thomas D. Cockrell. “Unionism in Civil War North Mississippi.” Journal of Mississippi History 75, No. 4 (Winter 2013): 57–69.
  98. Leonid Turkevich. “Theological Education in America.” trans. John Meyendorff. St. Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly, Vol. 9, No. 2 (1965): 59–67. Originally published (in Russian) in Russian Orthodox American Messenger, Vol. XVII, No. 19 (1913).
  99. Jonathan Pageau. The Tale of Snow White and the Widow Queen. Illustrated by Heather Pollington. Dallas, TX: Symbolic World Press, 2023.
  100. Dumitru Stǎniloae. Orthodox Spirituality: A Practical Guide for the Faithful and a Definitive Manual for the Scholar. trans. Jerome Newville and Otilia Kloos. South Canaan, PA: St. Tikhon’s Seminary Press, 2002.
  101. Cyril Hovorun. “For the Life of the World and Orthodox Political Theology.” Theology Today, Vol. 78, Issue 4 (January 2022): 347–356.

#reading

I now have a Pleroma instance for my micro-blogging (or not so micro) at https://social.wistly.net.