Reading and commentary resumes. My oldest brother didn’t die of a stroke this week. He did have a nasty episode that included vomit (his own) in his lungs and several days intubated to let his body breathe and mend, but it’s stuff you reliably recovery from. I have a goodly chunk of brain back.
Random thought: every genre is basically three raccoons in a trench coat. Writers go “oh, hey, I can stick this together with these and pull stories out of them”, readers go “9j, I like that, gimme more of that”, publishers notice, and you’ve got a genre. It matters, that folks like Howard, Leiber, Moore, and Moorcock were all enthusiastic students of history and folded it into their talespinners. We’ve seen fantasy adventuring without that well of inspirations, and to me it generally comes across as just a couple of raccoons in a coat.
It would be fun to make a reader’s guide to old and new fantasy in terms of each style’s raccoons. Then you could see that, ah, these authors are now outfitting this pair of raccoons and that one from the shelf over, and think that there’s a decent chance that these books will scratch that itch.