“Grave robbing was still viewed as socially inappropriate, and doing it when the sun was up was generally viewed as unwise.”

Enjoying the falls. St Columba Falls, Pyngana. July 2021.

Beneath the Sugar Sky by Seanan McGuire

I enjoyed the third instalment of this entertaining series of fantasy novels very much. Given that it is largely set in a 'nonsense' world, it is decidedly lighter in tone than the second book. That said, McGuire doesn't flinch from the grimmer side of life, and I remain impressed at the way she uses the fantasy setting to explore fundamental human problems and those of young people in particular.

One of the joys of this setting is how the author can bend and shape the contours of previous choices in the series to pursue closed-off plotlines. In this way, Yumi - murdered in the first book - returns as we journey with our ragtag bunch of misfits into the world of candy on a mission to save the daughter that was never born to their friend.

As with the previous books, Beneath the Sugar Sky features an inclusive, diverse group that never feels preachy or fake, with the setting again the perfect vehicle for the task. I'm looking forward to reading number four.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2

Comments

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

This will hurt me...

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