It’s almost 10 on a Sunday morning. I’ve been awake for maybe 2.5 hours, but only officially up and about (couch to bathroom to kitchen to couch) since 9. My brain seems to want to think. God knows why. So here goes. . .
I’m reading an urban-fantasy-supernatural-horror-mystery. A nice reminder that just a century ago these were all just “fantastic fiction” and not genres each with a dozen or more sub-genres. I’ve read it before and it’s not one of my faves in the series. I actually thought it was a different one — based entirely on my memory and the title. I’m only still reading it because I’d have to get up again to get the next one in the series which is hopefully the one set on a train.
None of which is very important.
The protagonist, an alien who solves locked room murder mysteries while working for an ultra-secret conspiracy organization (and now if you know urban-fantasy-supernatural-horror-mystery you probably know which seriesI mean) and his gf are planning a weekend getaway. Just something normal with no dead bodies or alien tech or ancient mummies. Or course it’s not going to work out that way.
And the protagonist, mulling over the idea of an inn in Cornwall, says something about recently finishing a job and the Organization being good about giving its agents down time. About recognizing how easy it is to burn out when you deal with so much weird shit.
And I thought, “Damn, even Illuminati-esque black-ops organizations take better care of their people than most public libraries. (Most US businesses period.)
Which circled — in my head — back to the previous book where the baddie turned out to be an alien forcing its consciousness into other beings (humans), sucking up their life force and using them to suck the life force of other humans, then just grabbing a new minion when it’s completely used up the old.
Given my current train of thought I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.
I don’t think the author intended any sort of sly subversive anti-corporate deep metaphor when he wrote any of it. He was just focused on writing an entertaining story. I’m pretty sure it’s all just me being exhausted after seven hours of sleep, dreading the weight of another Monday that’s looming over me.
How’s your weekend been?
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