NOT ON THE LIST The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss

I didn't find this book at all odd until reading the author's notes in the afterward. He points out how there is just ONE character and one of the main things she accomplishes in the book is making soap. The soap covers about 8 pages.
The last time soap making was an activity in anything consumed for entertainment purposes was Fight Club. Tyler Durden and Auri. That's a more fun compare / contrast than I realized until I typed that just now. One quietly sets the world right, the other seeks to upset every apple cart ever made. Perhaps if Auri never found solace in the Underthing she might have gone that direction.

The preface is a warning by the author almost telling you NOT to read this book.  It is a warning that - if you do - you should first read his other books (Kingkiller Chronicles) or you might be a bit lost jumping right into Auri's story.  I did happen to have come to this book after having read the other two, but I almost wish I could see what I thought if I hadn't.  I think I would have enjoyed it on a whole different level.  Would I have been more shocked and impressed to find out that she is a gifted intellectual?  How would I have pictured her expectant visitor?  Would I have thought that the name she dropped was that of an esteemed Professor?  Would I have placed the story in modern times? Or olden days? Or a fantasy realm?  I wonder..

Auri puts so much personality into the object that she collects that these "things" take on a person-hood. She worries about their feelings of her blanket. She wants her leaf to be comfortable. She wants a cup to not be lonely. Once she finds the right place to set the broken cogwheel (that she almost drowns trying to rescue) it balances her world so much that she names it Fulcrum.  She is too selfless to taker care of herself so she imbues items with her own emotions.
Patrick says that he didn't write this book to publish and sell it.  He needed to get the story of Auri out of his head.  He needed to explore more about her and find out who she really was. He did it mostly for himself not ever really intending or needing others to read it.  ..kinda like this blog.  I write it for me.  If YOU like it, that's great. I just want to be able to remember what happened in all of these books.

My friend Michael Mallen wrote a review of this book too.  He is a professional psychologist. His review - and the recommendation of everyone that has read the book - made me add it to the 100 book list. I'm really glad I did.
Pat says that : "This story is for all of the slightly broken people out there. I am one of you. You are not alone. You are all beautiful to me."  It reminds me of the Police song Message in a Bottle.  100 million bottles washed up on the shore. I guess no one is alone in being alone. ..good luck trying to tell that to someone who feels alone though.

p30
Some places had names. Some places changed, or they were shy about their names. Some places had no names at all, and that was very sad. It was one thing to be private. But to have no name at all? How horrible. How lonely. 

p116
She looked down at her shaking hands. Was she all full of screaming now? Again? No. No no. It wasn't her. Not just. It was all everything. All everything unravelding and thin and tatter. She could not even stand. The light was jagged, scraping like a knife against her teeth. And underneath it was the hollow dark. The nameless empty everything was clawing at the fraying edges of the walls. Even Foxen wasn't even nearly. The stones were strange. The air. She went looking for her name and couldn't even find it flickering. She was just hollow in. Everything was. Everything was everything. Everything was everything else. Even here in her most perfect place. She needed. Please she needed please..

One last thing..In the end note Pat points out that the name of his world is Temerant and asks "Did you catch that?" I hadn't at first but now I wonder.. Kvothe knows the name of the Wind.  Does Auri know the name of the World?  I have to go back and find it now..

#18 The Kingkiller Chronicle by Patrick Rothfuss (2 of 2..waiting for 3rd)

The Name of the Wind

This is a great story. One of the best I've read in a while. It is sorry of Kvothe dictating his life story to a man that is referred to primarily by title - Chronicler. Kvothe (Quothe) was a gifted child that could almost instantly learn anything very quickly. His wonderful life as the son of the leader of a band of traveling entertainers take a bit of a turn for the worse when his entire troop is murdered by a demon that is supposed to only exist in a storybook. This first book in the series him telling the story of his childhood to about age 15 or 16. Life alone in the woods, on the streets of Tarbean and eventually at the University. The recounting of the tale is punctuated by breaks in the conversation that flash forward to present time sitting at his inn - The Waystone - where he is in hiding under an assumed name. The very little bit of the story that takes place in the present is full of action at the very beginning; calm and colorful narration thru the body of the book; and shocking and intriguing at the very end.

AS SOON AS I FINISHED IT, I ran out - while hungover - to buy the second book : A Wise Man's Fear.

I literally can't wait to start it.

p114

Ben took a deep breath and tried again. "Suppose you have a thoughtless six-year-old. What harm could he do?"

I paused, unsure of what sort of answer he wanted. Straight-forward would probably be be best. "Not Much."

"Suppose he is twenty and still thoughtless, how dangerous is he?"

I decided to stick with the obvious answers. :"Still not much, but more than before."

"What if you give him a sword?"

p203

"All storied are true." Skorpi said. "But this one really happened, if that is what you mean."

He took another slow drink, then smiled again, his bright eyes dancing. "More or less. You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way. Too much truth confuses the facts. Too much honesty makes you sound insincere."

p281

Plainly said, he was giving me enough rope to hang myself with. Apparently he didn't realize that once a noose is tied, it will fit one neck as easily as another.

p422

Go out in the early days of winter, after the first cold snap of the season. Find a pool of water with a sheet of ice across the top, still fresh and new and clear as glass. Near the shore the ice will hold you. Slide out farther. Farther. Eventually you'll find a place where the surface just barely bears your weight. There you will feel what I felt. The ice splinters under your feet. Look down and you can see the white cracks darting thru the ice like mad, elaborate spiderwebs. It is perfectly silent, but you can feel the sudden sharp vibrations thru the bottom of your feet. This is what happened when Denna smiled at me.

p484

I smiled, "Deoch, my heart is made of stronger stuff than glass. When she strikes it she'll find it as strong as iron bound brass, or gold and adamant together mixed.. It's she who should take care, for when she strikes, my heart will make a sound so beautiful and bright that it can't help but bring her back to me in winged flight."

p716

"It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story"


The Wise Man's Fear
You tried to warn me.. Where's the next one, dammit?? Please, Pat, WRITE!!
This is one of the best new things I have read since I started on this list. Totally wow.
The Dungeons and Dragons nerd in me is in full on natural 20 RPG dork overload here..
Kvothe the MULTICLASS! He starts the first book as Bard level 1 at least, then picks up 1st level in

Wizard from Abenthy. Hiding in the woods doing nothing but playing the lute immediately after his troop is killed must be worth a level in Bard or two. Then three years on the streets of Tarbean gets you a couple levels in Thief. At least two more levels in Wizard at the University. Two more Bard levels at the Eolian and Anker's. Level 1 Ranger from tracking bandits in the Eld and finally level 2 Fighter from the Adem. So.. Bard 6, Wizard 3, Thief 2, Ranger 1, Fighter 2.
There may be some levels in other things too with the training he got in the Fae.. ifyaknowwhatImean.
Speaking of the ladies, I'm not so sure I like Dena. He needs to get over her. They didn't pay off the mention they made in the first book that Bast saw her once. Of course she is tied to this big event they are leading up to that shakes up the whole world. I assume at some point that Kvothe kills the king. Its probably Kvothe's mistake directly involving Dena. Has to be..
That's one of the things that resonates so well with this story. Kvothe - for being a level 14 Genius - is sure a fuckup. For all of his patience he is still hasty. For all of his care he is still reckless. For all of his appreciation of what he has gained he still tempts fate. As a character he is very well flawed.
I also must write down my thoughts on the Adem culture. It is brilliant, really. A warrior culture, where every child learns how to fight is going to have some major differences. Females fight as-well-as or better than men. This means the culture knows no rape. They have no nudity taboo. All sex is casual. Their society has not even worked out medically that babies come from sex. They think that a woman naturally ripens. There is no sense of "paternity" at all. ..just wait till Kvothe's girlfriend Penthe has a red haired baby. There must be some element of their society that understands mating.. no livestock are ever described but they do eat meat. A farmer would know for sure. I suppose it could all be imported or hunted. Nit picky rambling over. Sorry Patrick.

From a Q & A session with Mr Rothfuss in Feb 2017: Describe book 3 in one word:  SOON.

And then I’ll follow that up with the Aslan quote: “I call all times soon.”

Please Hurry. I'll slide the non-Kingkiller Rothfuss book in next even though it is not on the list. Slow regard of silent things: here I come.

p247
"Eld Vintic poerty is thunderous. It pounds at you."
"Sought we the Scrivani word-work of Surthur
Long-lost in ledger all hope forgotten.
Yet fast-found for friendship fair the book-bringer
Hot comes the huntress Fela, flushed with finding
Breathless her breast her high blood rising
To ripen the red-cheek rouge-bloom of beauty.
"That sort of thing," Simmon said absently, his eyes still scanning the pages in front of him.
I saw Fela turn her head to look at Simmon, almost as if she were surprised to see him sitting there.
No, it was almost as if up to that point, he'd just been occupying space around her, like a piece of furniture. But this time when she looked at him, she took all of him in. His sandy hair, the line of his jaw, the span of his shoulders beneath his shirt. This time when she looked, she actually saw him.

p541
Most secrets are secrets of the mouth. Gossip shared and small small scandals whispered. The secrets long to be let loose upon the world. A secret of the mouth is like a stone in your boot. At first you're barely aware of it. Then it grows irritating, then intolerable. Secrets of the mouth grow larger the longer you keep them, swelling until they press against your lips. They fight to be let free.
Secrets of the heart are different. They are private and painful, and we want nothing more than to hide them from the world. They do not swell and press against the mouth. They live in the heart, and the longer they are kept, the heavier they become.

p549
It's like Tecam said, nothing in the world is harder than convincing someone of an unfamiliar truth.

p853
"Vashet," I said. " It occurs to me it would be nice to fight someone whose ability is somewhat closer to my own."
Vashet laughed, shaking her head. " That is like throwing two virgins into a bed. Enthusiasm, passion, and ignorance are not a good combination. Someone is likely to get hurt."

#16 I, Robot by Isaac Asimov

I was TWO pages from the end of the book (..like, just a few minutes ago from reading to typing) and I was going to give it a solid "Meh.." review. It was interesting, good in parts but dragged in other spots. Good, but not great.. but then.. Asimov ties it all together right at the end. I shouldn't have doubted you Isaac. Wow.

Clearly you were building up to this the whole while. Maybe I should have seen it, but I didn't. I needed you to explain it to me.

The whole story is set up as a series of interviews with 80 something year old robotics expert Susan Clark. She tells the interviewer how we got from the beginning of robotics -in the early 1980's- to someplace totally different - in 2064. Asimov was a little optimistic on his predictions on our advancements. He saw us go from the Wright Brothers in 1903 to Chuck Yeager in 1947 so, naturally, he thought we would be mining asteroids with robots by now. It is odd to read a story that is set in the present time-span but is totally futuristic.

The basic premise is that we make better and better robots to make things easier and easier for ourselves. Our robot "servants" discover that the best way to serve us is to save us from.. ourselves.

It is a memoir of the person that best understands the robot brain - Dr Susan Calvin, robot psychologist. .. NOT Will Smith. I see no character in the book for Will Smith to have played. I have not seen the movie, but I imagine it is TOTALLY different.

introduction xiv
"Then you don't remember a world without robots, There was a time when humanity faced the universe alone and without a friend. Now he has creatures to help him; stronger creatures than himself, more faithful, more useful, and absolutely devoted to him. Mankind is no longer alone. "

p177
"Now a human caught in an impossibility often responds by a retreat from reality: by entering into a world of delusion, or by taking to drink, going off into hysteria, or jumping off a bridge.  It all comes to the same thing - a refusal or inability to face the situation squarely. And so, the robot."

p197
Something broke loose and whirled in a blaze of flickering light and pain.  It fell - and whirled - and fell headlong - into silence!  - into death!  It was a world of no motion and no sensation. A world of dim unsensing consciousness; a consciousness of darkness and of silence and of formless struggle. Most of all a consciousness of eternity. 
Here was a tiny white thread of ego - cold and afraid. 

#76 Rendezvous with Rama by Arthur C Clarke

Captain Norton of the space ship Endeavour is ordered out to make contact with an alien vehicle coming into our solar system. Humans have spread thru the local planets, but have never met life that didn't come from Earth - until now.
The shrewd and level headed Captain takes his crew thru docking on the ship - dubbed Rama - and leads the exploration of its interior.  The interior is a world built on the inside of a gigantic tube that -at first - appears to be frozen and inert. At first, anyway.

It is odd to me to have so much adventure in a story, with not that much excitement.  There is some drama, but no real grandiose tension.  Clarke Norton and the crew of the Endeavour too careful and sober for that.  Any leader worth his salt in Clarke's eyes would not put his crew at a greater risk than need be.  Any loose-cannon types would have been off his ship long ago.  They all work together as a trusting and tight-knit unit. ..and that is exactly the way a good outfit of genuine spacers would need to be.

I enjoyed the play between the planetary councils. He calls it the United Planets and the people from the different regions have different attitudes. Permanent habitation has long been established on the Moon, Mercury, NOT Venus (too harsh), Mars and several moons of Jupiter as well as colonies in the further reaches of the solar system.  They consider their OWN worlds home and do not consider themselves "Earthlings".  You especially have to watch those Hermians ( people from Mercury ).  They are hot blooded and untrusting souls.

p115
"Suppose that we do find that Rama is -active- and has these capabilities. There is an old saying in military affairs that capability does not imply intention."

p156
He paused at the last spot where he could hear it, like a faint throbbing deep in his brain. So might a primitive savage listened in awe-struck ignorance to the low humming of a giant power transformer. And even the savage might have guessed that the sound heard was merely the stray leakage from the colossal energies, fully controlled, but biding their time.

p173
The crab showed no reaction whatsoever, nor did it slacken its pace. Ignoring Jimmy completely, it walked straight past him and headed purposefully into the south. Feeling extremely foolish, the acting representative of Homo Sapiens watched his First Contact stride away across the Raman plain, totally indifferent to his presence. 
He had seldom been so humiliated in his life. Then his sense of humor came to his rescue. After all, it was no great matter to have been ignored by an animated garbage truck.  It would have been worse if it had greeted him as a long-lost brother. 

#22 The Dark Tower series by Stephen King (1 of 4?)

I was in the middle of yet another 900+ page Wheel Of Time book when my wife and I went on vacation last week.  Not wanting to lug around a 3 inch deep tome, I decided to bring something more portable.  The Gunslinger. This is my FIRST book by Stephen King that I have ever read.

In the afterward, King says he wrote the book over the span of several years and you can kinda tell in how different it feels at the beginning versus the end.  The weariness and depressing persistence of the "chase" brings you well into the head of the man you find out a couple hundred pages later is named Roland.  He coldly recounts how the town of Tull went from a frontier town to a ghost town to a lone settler who is equally as unaffected by the horrible tale as he is in telling it.  It partly feels like a confession, but without the seeking of absolution.  Just an admittance, rather..

Then the boy, Jake, comes into his life. Jake's sorry is odd and sad and depressing.  It feels like he was there to serve a purpose, but it didn't really fell like he did... other than to briefly show the Gunslingers capacity for humanity and compassion- at least a remembrance of it anyway.

Meeting the MIB was really an anticlimax. The resolution of that interaction even more so.

Maybe those turn out to be NOT yet totally resolved in the next books.

All in all, parts of the writing were very good, but the overall story is not great.  Not yet anyway.

p37
He suddenly became aware that the room had gone silent again, and he tasted thick tension in the air. He turned around and stared into the face of the man who had been asleep by the door when he entered.  It was a terrible face.  The odor of the devil-grass was a rank miasma.  The eyes were damned, the staring, glaring eyes of those who see but do not see, eyes ever turned inward to the sterile hell of dreams beyond control, dreams unleashed, risen out of the stinking swamps of  the unconscious.   

#60 Going Postal by Terry Pratchett

That was a fun book. Moist von Lipwig is a con artist that gets caught, condemned, hanged - but not killed - then is offered the job as Postmaster of the city of Ankh-Morpork. This is not a good gig because the last several postmasters have gone insane due to the mountains of undelivered mail that are stuffed into every corner of the post office.  They WANT to be delivered.. and they drive you mad. 
The other characters are plucky, but not terribly involved.  This is a one man story.  Just Moist. 
Yep, Moist.  He knows it is a weird name but since he spent most of his life a s a con man up till the hanging, he rarely used it.  He had every grift in the book; from forgeries to 3 card Monty to passing off a cheap 1$ ring as a 1000$ ring and getting someone to think they are swindling him by selling it for 100$. He got away with it for so long because he know what people wanted to see.  He made sure everyone remembered the suit he was wearing - not the man in the suit.  He was a real people-person.. in a sense. He could really work a crowd.
He uses this to get the post office up and running again. The forgery experience comes in great when designing (inventing) stamps. His promotional and crowd working skills get people quickly very interested in the post office and they thankfully will not notice him outside of his golden winged hat and gold suit.  See the suit, forget the man.
The other main communication network of the world notices him too, and are not too keen on having competition.  The "clacks" - a network of semaphore towers - is the only game in town for local and long distance communication.  That lack of competition has made them inefficient and corrupt, but people have just gotten used to poor service. Pratcehtt is going for some socio-political commentary her I am sure, but it is subtle enough to be able to take it as-it-comes.  He does not bludgeon you with it as so many other authors do. I found that refreshing.
The other denizens of the post office are interesting, but ultimately just in the background. His would-be girlfriend is rather forgettable too, but I did like Mr Pump.  Mr Pump is a golem.  He is both Moist's assistant and his parole officer. Oddly, the un-fleshed character seemed the most fleshed out. Maybe it just seems that way because he is so simple.  He was created to be a tool, but his is a liberated and possesses a sense of "personhood". People didn't like the thought of golems being like salves, so they gave them rights.. but they were designed to be "living" tools.. so all they do is work.  Again, a social commentary that is at a take-it-or-leave-it level.  Nice.

p313
Neverthless, he picked up a piece of smashed chair.  It had splintered nicely, and the thing about a stake thru the heart was that it also worked on non-vampires.

p378
Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation will also be the crowd that applauds you behading.

p458
"But I'm going to have my hands more than full with the Post Office!" Moist protested.
"I hope you are. But, in mu experience, the best way to get something done it to give it to someone who is busy." said Vetinari. 

#79 Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury

It was hard to get thru this, but I had many distractions.  I feel like I've started one of these off this way before.. Stupid nursing school.
Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway.  Neighbors, best friends, 13 year old boys, lightning rod purchasers.  These carefree boys first meet a traveling salesman who gives a warning that the coming days are going to be as unlucky as their ages. He gifts them a lightning rod woven thru with spells and charms to ward off not only natural lightning, but the more metaphorical storm they are bound to get caught up in on this mid October evening.  The circus is coming to town, and that is bad news.
The boys quickly recognize that something is just not right with the supposed entertainers as they spy on them while they set up shop.  The curiosity, daring and invincibility of pubescence gets the best of them as they investigate and it is quickly known to the devious Mr Dark that someone knows their evil secret.
They fend off some assaults on their own, but in the end, can't do it all alone.  The mopey-yet-intrepid Charles Halloway - Will's dad - is eventually enlisted as well.

The writing is WONDERFUL. Almost too wonderful. You can almost say that Ray wrote a 230-odd page poem. It is beautiful. It is whimsical to the extreme. Flowing, imaginative, rambling - yet still on track. The character's grasp on reality seems as tight as that of a child reaching for the brass ring on a merry-go-round.

This is one book that I need to buy and keep as opposed to borrowing from the library.  I can easily see picking it up and reading a few pages here and there just to get a dose of that spooky Bradbury flavor..

p191
For those beings, fall is the normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. 
Where do they come from/  The dust.
Where do they go to?  The grave.
Does blood stir in their veins? No: the night wind.
What tickles in their head?  The worm.
What speaks from their mouth?  The toad.
What sees from their eye?  The snake.
What hears with their ears? The abyss between the stars. 
They sift the human form for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth. In gusts they beetle-scurry, creep, thread, filter, motion, make all sullen, and surely cloud all clear-run waters. The spider-web hears them, trembles - breaks.
Such are the autumn people. Beware of them.