I've done a lot of reading in the past fortnight—most of it in Montreal, and on the trips there and back—and then I came home and find myself busier than I expected, so this is mostly based on brief notes I made at the time.

Agatha Christie, The Murder at the Vicarage: I think this is the first Miss Marple; I didn't much like the narrator/viewpoint character, a minister. He obviously shouldn't be married to his wife, from what he says about marriage and how little respect he shows her. (That's not germane to the mystery, but Christie gives an impressive example of that kind of relationship problem. And it is a problem here, not "I don't understand this person, but I adore them and we make each other happy.")

Will Cuppy, How to Attract the Wombat: reread of a collection of short bits, most of them at least partly about animals, but with comments about humans in general and ancient naturalists in specific. Not quite as snarky about Pliny as in some of his stuff, but he has some sharp things to say about Aristotle and fact-checking.

John Barnes, One for the Morning Glory: another reread, a book with deliberately silly use of words (hunting the wild gazebo, the Isought Gap, etc.) along with characters who know they're in a fairy tale.

E. K. Johnston, The Story of Owen, Dragon Slayer of Trondheim: recommended by [livejournal.com profile] mrissa, a good, fast-moving YA novel about an alternate history with far too many dragons, and therefore some differences in Canadian, US, UK, and other history.

Carl Hiaasen, Tourist Season: I seem to be off Hiaasen (or got another clunker), our senses of humor don't fit together as I remembered.

Laura Antoniou, The Killer Wore Leather: a murder mystery set at a leather/BDSM convention in New York City. Not bad, but I think the author was aiming for funnier than I found it.

possible mild spoilers for Mike Carey and Anthony Price )

Julie Smith, Tourist Trap: one of a series of mysteries about a San Francisco lawyer; I found some of the described reactions to a crime wave less than convincing, but a lot of the rest works, and there's some good stuff about the detective's relationships with her boyfriend and her family of origin. (Amazon offered me this as a free download, so I had it on the kindle and read it on the flight home.)
I suspect it's not actually true that I can sit down and read novels, just not in the United States.

Nonetheless, I once again got more reading done in Montreal than at home (and then not much on the flight back):

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves, by Karen Joy Fowler, is very good, a portrait of a damaged family told by one of the daughters, who talks about trying to figure out what went wrong, and her own sense of identity. (I bought this for the kindle, after seeing it had won an award; Fowler has sf connections but I'd call this mainstream. More later, maybe, if I can decide what counts as spoilery.)

The Old Vengeful, by Anthony Price, is a cold war thriller, from I think 1982; only loosely connected to some of his others, David Audley is there but not a major character. This is one of [personal profile] rysmiel's, selected in part for its relative brevity, because it was late enough in my visit that I didn't want to start a 400-page novel.

I also reread a couple of Pat Wrede's Enchanted Forest books, which are on the light and fluffy side; one before the Fowler, the other while traveling home from Montreal.

I don't know what comes next; probably either Nicola Griffith's Hild (which I have from the library and am thinking I have time to at least start and decide whether to buy or wait) or the most recent Terry Pratchett (which [personal profile] cattitude bought, so there's less temporal urgency). Or maybe I'll finish that book on the history of Spanish, rather than more fiction right now.
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