just finished reading Simon R. Green - The Man With the Golden Torc
i enjoyed it, but Simon Green does what Simon Green always does, and there's too much of a good thing in there. it's like he sits and thinks up cool names for things and what they might be, then develops them for five minutes, and they get three paragraphs of book space and are never heard from again. cool things just to have cool things. blecch. there are other Simon Green-isms, like repeat of pithy phrases and titles for people get hammered into the dirt by the Dirt Hammerer. like that.
and yet, here i am, reading another book. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
clearly, it's mind control. or it's empty entertainment. i read it between Central America and Brazil, somewhere, and it went pretty quickly.