The first PRIDE was a riot

 It took a lot of lugging, but I finally finished David Carter's Stonewall: The Riots that Sparked the Gay Revolution. (It wasn't a slog, but it was a very involved recounting of 1968-1972. It was also recommended as the better of the two books that have the most recognition on the subject.)

So, there are several bases that need covered here, the book itself, my takeaways, and a few comments on the Goodreads reviews of this book. 

We'll start with the book itself. It covers in some detail the geography and history of Greenwich Village on the Lower East Side, in particular Christopher Street and Christopher Park where the Stonewall stands. We hear of the history of the building prior to a Syndicate boss buying the property and likely spiting his father with the purchase of a designated Gay Bar. We learn how Mafia owned gay bars of the era operated (without a license, usually "members only", most of the drinks being watered down well liquor poured into top shelf bottles, no sanitation, no fire exit, and raided fairly frequently. And paying off the police quite a bit.) 

We learn of Ed "the Skull" who operated at Stonewall, and tended to be the last one some of the young hustlers were seen with. We hear of NYC politics in the late 60's and how morality raids seemed to increase in city election years. We get a really sad quote about how Corruption was the only source of hope for gay people in the city at the time, since gay bars couldn't get a liquor license. We get Mattachine New York doing the demonstration that I still find amusing, wherein they went to bars, announced the were homosexuals and wanted a drink, which was enough to shut down a gay bar at the time. The straight bars didn't care and served them, with one or two exception (one was already losing its license, another closed, rather than deal with the press.) 

The riots happen June 28th, 1969. By the time we start, we have a really broad overview of the known players. (We'll come back to this later. While certain personalities were known at the riots, the mass of people didn't take a head count or get everyone's names.) What we know for certain is that Captain Pine planned the raid because of the Mafia payoffs. What happened was not something he expected, nor should we assume he held animus towards the GLBTQ+ community. While we can rightfully assume some of those under him did, there's a very long argument in the conclusions as to why Carter is likely telling the truth about that. We see people getting removed from the bar, and instead of dispersing, standing around and watching. We hear about the police keeping the transvestites in the back. (The general rule of the era was that you had to have on at least 3 items of clothing for your assigned at birth gender to not run afoul of public decency laws. And given it was 1969, and unisex clothing was all the rage...) And then comes the arrest of the unknown lesbian, who got in and out of the wagon 3 times before shouting her challenge to the lingering crowd. By this point the first wagon had left, with what was assumed to be employees and managers of the bar. The police were unprepared for a riot, the 6th Precinct ignored calls for help, and the crowd had turned, going from camp catcalls to throwing pennies and other change to a few folks digging up loose cobblestones and throwing them. The cops retreated into the bar, at which point trash cans started getting set on fire and thrown at the barred windows. (Rumors abounded that the drag queens were being held captive in the back room.) The first cries of "Gay Pride" were heard. We see the arrival of the riot police, and how the geography of the area and bravery of the street queens pretty much allowed the rioters to outmaneuver the police the first and second nights. Lest we forget them in the name of brevity, we should mention the street kids doing kick lines and chanting to keep the focus of the riot police as long as they could. (We won't reprint the chants here, since I try to keep a "G" rating on public blogs, but they are pretty funny. A Google search should bring them up for the curious.)

The riots broke up around dawn Saturday, and started up again, with more people, Saturday night. (We hear tales of people who weren't in Stonewall during the raid, who got called to the scene during the outbreak. We also hear of curiosity bring people to the area Saturday night, and a second night of riots. By the accounts we have, Sunday through Tuesday were fairly dead, what with the police presence and Stonewall trying to reopen as a juice bar. Wednesday, however....

 Anyway, the upshot is that several gay groups formed in the wake of the rioting, eventually replacing the more sedate and milquetoast predecessors. The first was the Gay Liberation Front, which seems to have splintered off based on internal fighting of how to proceed, and later, the Gay Activist Alliance. Much of the last chapters deal with this, as well as the Snake Pit Riots, wherein a Venezuelan man on an expired visa was taken into custody and wound up impaled on a fence outside the station house. 

Carter's conclusion chapter goes about exploring different parts of the legends that have sprung up around the riots and presenting what his research found in terms of proof positive or negative about them, Captain Pine's veracity and whether or not Judy Garland;s death played a role in the anger being among those. He concludes that Pine was telling the truth, given his story hasn't changed in the intervening years, and that any mentions of Garland's death in connections with the riots seem to point to it not being at all related. Indeed, it could be argued with the materials presented that Garland's death heralded the end of the gay scene that adored her and set the stage for the new scene born from the riots.We'll also mention he does mention different events on the West Coast that also loosened restrictions on gay folks, but since most of those that precede Stonewall didn't have quite the national impact that Stonewall had. (As an aside, I'd love to read books about the different regional movements that were going on. I mean, other than an old collection of Gay Sunshine magazine articles, I have yet to really see much that particularly explores the history that lead to the national movement. I mean, some of it is out there, but usually it's a footnote in relation to something else.)

As for my conclusions from the book,. the one thing that really struck me, and Carter does briefly touch on it towards the end, is that the rank and file of the rioters: the street kids, the non middle class gays who didn't really have a quiet closet to exist in, the flamboyant, the drag queens; they didn't get the benefit of a place at the table in the new movement. While some outreach was evidently made, it didn't get far. Honestly, and you'll forgive me for dragging musical theater into this, I almost felt like the best reflection of the new movement could be found in the students of Les Miserables or perhaps the confrontation between Mark and the Homeless Lady in RENT. People in a better place trying to improve the lives of people they on some level consider beneath them. Which is an ugly thought, but one I fond myself considering quite a bit. 

Now, I mentioned I'd discuss the reviews on Goodreads, which accuse Carter of idolizing cis-white and ignoring less colorful and less binary people involved in the riots. In particular, one reviewer gave it one star because it gives no credit to one Marsha P. Johnson. Marsha, who in modern life considers herself Transgender, was at the time, mostly considered a drag queen, and she did go around in her male persona on occasion. By the accounts of her contemporaries, she was exceedingly nice as a woman, but downright evil as a man. Also, most mentions of her presence at Stonewall were the second night of rioting. Accounts from the time record the first stones thrown as by a red head weaving in and out of the crowd, who no one identified. Second, Carter uses the terminology of the era, which would likely be how the folks identified themselves at the time. Indeed, one of the transsexuals interviewed had her 18th birthday the night of the riots, and had a man who was going to pay for her operation. Fifty years on, she'd likely identify as transgender and not worry as much about the other labels so prevalent at the time. One also needs to consider how much terminology changes over time, even over the course of a decade, to the point of what in 1969 was called Scare Queens would today be Skag Drag. Or the fact that Queen referred less to a particular shade or performer and more a catch all term for any gay man of the era. While there are indeed several folks of color mentioned in the rioting, there were also quite a few white boys participating. (What pictures of the riots exist show a nice mixtures of shades and tones, so it wasn't exactly an all white or all darker shades party.) I ran into this problem reading Blossom of Bone earlier this year, in which trying to apply modern labels to people who didn't identify as such at the time is mostly guesswork. And with the riots being 51 years old and on the other side of a pandemic that really killed a large amount of people from the era, it's a heck of a lot harder to get accurate information from sources that aren't using archaic forms. (I'll point out here that The Boys in the Band by Mart Crowley and Christopher and His Kind by Christopher Isherwood will also show how much has drifted over time.) By reading this through a modern lens, after legends have grown up out of it, we also risk letting a good story that vindicates our worldviews make us reject the less legendary truth that lies beneath the story. 

I'll leave it at this. I enjoyed it, thought it was well researched, and most of the detail matched up with what the few survivors of the era I have the privilege of knowing have confirmed from their memories.

Perfect moments happen, even with nougat

 I'd read Terry Pratchett's Thief of Time previously, but it has been a while. Given I also read it early on berfore having read much of the rest of Discworld...

The story centers on Death's sort of nemeses, The Auditors, who prefer order and therefore hate humanity, and their plot to end time. Which means Death is running around with his granddaughter Susan trying to stop it. We also have Lu-Tze, the history monk/sweeper and his apprentice Lobsang trying to stop the apocalypse, and Jeremy and his Igor building the clock that will stop time and the behest of an Auditor who has taken human form. We also get a minor role in Nanny Ogg, who holds information Susan needs to solve the problems of what's actually going on. 

Essentially, Jeremy is building a glass clock, that will trap the personification of Time in the smallest increment of time possible, thereby stopping time. (The way this is presented, and the reason I had it confused with a similar Douglas Adams quote, is that time is destroyed and recreates the universe every instant.) The Auditor finds that being in a human body creates individual thought, which is anathema to the Auditors. Lu-Tze figures out Lobsang can actually balance the time spinners better than anyone with no training, and winds up taking him to stop the clock from being turned on. We also get to see the other personifications of the Apocalypse, all of whom are dealing with the same issues the Auditors have, where having been created by Humanity, are now human shaped and dealing with human flaws. 

While this will never be my favorite Discworld book, it is much more entertaining having read everything else. It's also a fairly good treatise on the passage of time and the nature of being human.

Special K and Demons

 I was actually kind of sad when I got a few pages into Christopher Pike's The Blind Mirror, since that about how long it took for me to remember I'd already read it years ago and hated it. 

I'm afraid time hasn't tempered my opinion of it much. 

When I was younger, I really enjoyed Pike's Young Adult fiction. Yes, he wrote a few stinkers, but some of it really influenced me back in the day. Then I found out he had a few adult novels, and they were universally stinkers. Well at least the two I know I've read have been. The other one, The Cold Ones, had similar themes to his YA fiction, but went darker, and it really didn't work well.

Then we have this one.

At the risk of major spoilers, the plot resolution involves people using Ketamine saturated in Ozone to artificially create out of body experiences, during which they can trade bodies with someone else who is also out of body. And then we find out demons are real. 

Which is sad, since the set up leading to this abject silliness is actually pretty interesting as a set up, as we have David returning from New York City to his hometown north of Santa Barbara with a novel to paint a cover for, and discovering a body on the beach at the same place he last saw his ex girlfriend Sienna. The feds and the local sheriff are sure the body belongs to Sienna, but Sienna keeps leaving phone messages for David. In the meantime, people from David's past keep dancing through his narrative, including Julie, a former cheerleader, who ends up seducing David. 

It gets silly fairly quickly, as the FBI agent investigating Sally (AKA Sienna's) death winds up confessing much that a real agent would never disclose, just to get the plodding plot moving a bit faster. We have the terrible novel David is reading that he's supposed to paint the cover for, which, while it does explain some of what's going on, seems mainly there so the author can show off his knowledge of the Platonic Year. Even if you buy into the book's central idea that everything going on is elaborate choreography, the level of coincidence really shakes believable circumstance. I mean, given some of the crap I've read, I'm willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief, but the sudden jump outside the bounds pretty much breaks it here. 

Eventually, I'll reread some his YA fiction again and get the horrible taste of this out of my mouth.

Skeletons Dancing on Pumpkins with Small Children

 As I mentioned a few books back, we're now returning to the glory days of pulpy horror paperbacks, most often found littering the shelves of the local grocery store. This time courtesy of Grady Hendrix, who evidently fell into a used books store, wound up with a cart full of late 70s-90 horror, and got inspired to write a history of them in Paperbacks From Hell. 

While the subject matter might be a bit on the cheesy side, the book is lush in its treatment, with pictures of several of the more lurid covers printed in full color. Indeed, what ended up helping me decide to add this to my collection was the fact that a few titles displayed in the front cover were ones I remember having at a young age. 

With this being non fiction, it's arranged by subject matter, starting with Satan and ending with Splatterpunk, meaning we go from Blatty's The Exorcist to Bright's Lost Souls, with such luminaries as V. C. Andrews and Graham Masterson in between. For the most part, he avoids going too in depth with the really big names to give the spotlight to much lesser known authors, although he generally does start with the big book(s) that started a trend, and explore what flooded the shelf imitating them, as well as discussing what likely contributed to said explosion in the subject. 

This helped fill in a few gaps, since some stories I only vaguely remember, or never knew the full story on, like The Amityville Horror, exactly how far the Satanic Panic of the 80's had spread (indeed, more than a few "non fiction" titles discuss the books that presented us with Satanic Cults running day care centers, the backmasking on Beach Boys albums, how Dungeons and Dragons will lead you to try to jump off the world trade center, and how Heavy Metal will make the Dark Lord rise. (That sound is my eyes rolling back in my head.)

We get details on the lives of the folks who painted the cover art, we hear about how art directors introduced die cut covers and embossed images to get the books to pop. We learn of the histories of several publishing houses and imprints prior to either going out of business or being absorbed by a larger company. Honestly, while not as blunt or direct, parts of this reminded me quite a bit of that one scene in The Devil Wears Prada, where Miranda explains in graphic detail the business of fashion. (Indeed, a publishing change which allows houses to ship back and shred non selling inventory means books have roughly 6 weeks to catch on, or else. It also means many midlist authors don't get published, since they won't make back their advance.)

It was interesting to learn the stories of a few imprints that particularly influenced my reading habits as a kid, namely Zebra and Abyss. The former was the really pulpy stuff, produced on the cheap and usually poorly edited; the latter was post splatterpunk, allowing for similar sensibilities without the machismo and less nihilism. (Indeed, if you follow the tag on here for Rick R. Reed, his was an Abyss book.) It was Zebra, in particular that had lurid cover art featuring skeletons and porcelain skinned cherubs. 

While I had read more than a few volumes discussed in here, there were several I haven't yet. I fully expect to spend time perusing used book stores looking for fun treasures now.

Well worth the read.

Run to the hills

 Eventually, I'm going to get the tag fixed on R. S. Belcher's always fun Golgotha series, but....

Let me start by saying The Ghost Dance Judgement is a bit different than the previous three volumes, mainly because its frame story is set in the modern era, which may or may not explain a few references that happen in March of 1872. We start with one of Deputy Jim Negry's (the one with the jade Eye of the Moon) arriving in the nearly abandoned ghost town of Golgotha and stopping to ask questions at the general store run by one of Malachi Bick's descendants. It's here we hear the tale of the Ghost Dance some 20 years prior to the more famous outbreak. 

We start with Izsua as a little girl dealing with the slaughter of her village by settlers. She winds up finding a cave to the underworld, where she learns secrets of the dead. (This is roughly 18 years prior to the main bulk of the story.) She's involved with Deputy Mutt's old nemesis, Snake Man, we find out later. Anyway, she's found a way to lead the dead back to fight the living, with the promise that they'll drive the settlers back to Europe.  

In the mean time, President Grant has sent General Caxton to Golgotha to take care of the "savages" raiding the area. Along with him comes Deputy Kat's old boss Pinkerton, who's back to wooing Deputy Kate, even if she is in love with Sheriff Jon Highfather. Porter Rockwell, Brigham Young's right hand man, is also in town to ostensibly help Mayor Pratt with the Indian problem, but also make sure that Pratt's role as the Mormon champion won't challenge Young's leadership of the Church. Pratt's dealing with his relationship with both James Ringo and Black Rowan, the local brothel owner. Rowan is trying to get Pratt to get a Mormon encampment to move to make way for a dogleg of the railroad, but Pratt has reasons for resisting this. 

And then we have Maude and Constance, who are the first to encounter the dead Indians in the desert. And find out the Sons of Typhon have come to Golgotha to find an avatar for the thing under Argent Mountain, here referred to as both Uktena and Typhon. That plot involves Augustus's baby, which may or may not have been conceived prior to his wife bringing him back from the dead. This winds up roping in Professor Mephisto, who helps sort out the mess under the mountain. 

By the end, which involves a few armies converging on Golgotha and a fight under the mountain, we have quite the fun experience, since there really aren't that many people in the book who qualify as moral and upstanding. I mean, yes, the residents of Golgotha are essentially good people, but the moral gray areas with everyone, including most of the villains are ample enough to swallow the desert. 

Again, Belcher gets points for his portrayal of Pratt, who's closeted relationship with Ringo rings with honesty and pathos. Really, this goes for all the folks in relationships in the book. He also gets points for making a reference towards the end to the black sheriff in Rock Ridge. 

This also provides another sterling example of something I've long suspected, since a certain entity named Coyote shows up in here about halfway through. I'm fairly convinced at this point that Coyote and his prose portrayals are all the same creature existing across several universes at a time, since regardless of who's writing him, he steals the scene and behaves in very specific manners. Here, he gets bonus points for breaking the narrative long enough to point out he hasn't really been talked to since book one. 

The only problem I had, which I never did go back to figure out if the page numbering reflects it or not, is that one of the chapters is printed twice, back to back. I read it again, to see if maybe there was a subtle difference, but no, pretty sure this was a print error.

Great book, though. I can't wait to see what happens next.

Clearing the board

 There was some concern that Jim Butcher was going to end his long running Dresden Files with his new Battle Ground, but by the end, it's more like a musical Rondo, bringing the story back to the beginning, only with some new accoutrements. 

We pick up where Peace Talks left off, in the deep hours of Midsummer Night, as Ethniu and the Formor begin rising from Lake Michigan to repeat what a certain cow did year ago to Chicago. Given the book more or less climaxes at dawn, that's roughly 400 pages of the war for Chicago, as members of the Unseelie Accords combine to battle a Titan bearing the Eye of Balor. (For the record, this has been a recurring artifact in a few fictions I've read since this started. I guess mythology only has so many artifacts to dig up to destroy everything with.) 

It seems appropriate that one of the pop culture quotes that pops up is from Ghostbusters, since some of the battle is similar to that sequel, wherein The Winter Knight manages to get a seething mass of Humanity to rise up under his banner to help take on a varied mix of bad guys, including the return of the Black Court of Vampires (which also has a shout out to the best book in the entire series, Dead Beat.) 

While with the number of major characters dying throughout this battle, it does seem like this could be the end, it does, like I said, wind up feeling much more like resetting everything to new paradigm closer to how this all started. We get a few new plot threads for him to build off of, like whom Marcone is allied with, the true nature of who set this big battle in motion, and Mab's designs on securing particular alliances, as well as some new ideas that could easily fill volumes of their own, like Mab's long lost humanity, The Winter Lady's relationship with her parents, and whether or not Butcher isn't trying to sell us an Anakin Skywalker story over 20+ books. 

As an added bonus, there is a short story set about 6 months after the main event at the end. That one made me laugh and cry in the course of about 10 pages, particularly the idea that Queen Mab watched Frozen at some point.

Given how long we were between books before this two in a year, I wouldn't be surprised if Butcher takes another sabbatical, since this one really didn't end on a cliffhanger. (Really, the only major pressing event is set for a year from the ending. Everything else is background noise.)

So, in the end, it's a fitting ending to a particular chapter of the Files, and an interesting rearranging of pieces for a new chapter.

Brotherly Love

 Before we actually try to review Silent Scream by Dan Schmidt, I feel we must discuss its existence before getting too deep. (This will become important again in about 3 books, since I picked up a book discussing the era this one got written in.) 

This one is out of the mid 90's, and bears the stamp of 90's horror mediocrity, Leisure Books, as the publishing imprint. Leisure Book, much like Zebra books, were commonly found with lurid covers over cheap paper, decorating supermarket book sections, enticing people into what may or may not be a memorable horror story. (Mostly not, although I do remember a few of them, and I imagine when we clean out Mom's attic eventually, I'll find even more.) 

Anyway, at it's heart, Silent Scream is a tale of two brothers, and why one hates the other. Mike, the younger brother, starts off a homeless addict currently roaming the streets of Philadelphia. Older brother John, has stayed in Glendale, Illinois, a farming community that's become a prosperous middle class urban utopia. John has a loving wife, 3 kids, owns and edits the town newspaper, and owns and runs a restaurant with the family. Mike runs into a former classmate who runs away screaming. Mike repeats a prayer he found in some obscure volume of self help literature. Mike finds a dead body with an amulet shaped like the symbol in his book. Mike puts it on, and wow, Mike can suddenly hear everyone's thoughts and start using his thoughts to control people around him! (Had this been 80's comedy instead of 90's horror, this would be a sex comedy.)

Anyway, back in Glendale, where Mike will eventually make his way back to, John is having issues of his own, including a letter from Mike that starts off the novel. We see the serene nature of John's life, and the occasional crack in that facade, what with drunk coworkers who want very badly to crack open the mafia connections that brought the money into Glendale. 

While John is potboiling his way through, Mike uses his new powers to start hitching rides west, starting with his old classmate. Mike's hearing a voice with his new powers, encouraging his revenge plans. 

Until the brothers finally meet up, we mostly get Mike getting revenge on people he feels wronged him and plotting against his brother's "perfect life" and John learning to be a more assertive person. And then they meet.

As far as readability, this is a decent read. I mean, Mike is a sympathetic antagonist, one whom you can empathize with to a point. John is not a great protagonist, as I found myself hating him throughout most of the story, and frankly, Mike does have reasonable grounds to hate him on. I mean, John did know the charges against Mike growing up were untrue, and he also knew the truth about other things that lead to Mike's victimization. And he said nothing. I'm sorry, keeping a trust fund of parental money doesn't excuse silence in the face of oppression of someone you supposedly love. 

On the other hand, Mike's actions with powers start losing logic of any kind when he goes after John's youngest, the one who most resembles the Mike as a youth. We never learn whether Mike's powers are inborn (it's mentioned that some of the side effects manifesting with the powers mirror illnesses Mike had growing up), or come from an external being, maybe a demon or a god of some kind. We get very vague hints about some of what Mike went through as a kid, but never enough to really flesh out some of what happened.... I felt like had this been written a bit later, Mike would have been revealed as being molested or even gay, but instead, we just know he was falsely accused or raping a girl, even if it never went to court. We know something happened in the bushes with another boy and his dad beat him half to death over whatever happened there. We also get more than a few scenes of the misogyny that tends to inhabit pulp horror, which does tend to make Mike quite a bit like the monster everyone thought he was as a teenager. And when we find out love and prayer are Mike's weakness, the ending takes on a vaguely moralistic stance that in no way redeems anyone while feeling tacked on to satisfy an editor. 

Honestly, I enjoyed it, although I felt like I was checking off boxes on the genre all the way through.

As you wish

 So, after more than a few years, I finally got around to reading William Goldman's The Princess Bride. 

Honestly, there isn't much to add here. Most folks have seen the movie by now, and laughed and been enchanted by it. The story in the book is pretty much the same, although instead of getting Columbo reading to Kevin, we instead get a bunch of self depreciation from the writer. (Not that some of it isn't amusing, particularly when he starts discussing Steven King....Note that I was reading the 30th Anniversary edition, which includes chapter 1 of the follow up.)

I checked around, and despite being listed as an abridged version of a bigger foreign work, this all belongs to a self depreciating author, who frankly doesn't come off well when talking about himself. 

On the other hand, it's hard not to love Westley and Buttercup, root for Fezzig and Inigo... (The book does go into somewhat greater detail on backstory, which the movie skipped over a bit. We actually find out how Buttercup wound up engaged to Humperdink, for instance, and Miracle Max and his wife have more fleshed out roles, even if it's impossible to read their section without hearing Carol Kane and Billy Crystal speaking.) 

And the actual ending is a bit different, which annoyed me. I think he fixed a few things in the screenplay, even as he messed up other things. But hey. It's a charming read, and easy to forgive for minor problems.

The desert never lies

 So, finally circled back to finish Mercedes Lackey's Dragon Jousters with Aerie, which I know I read at some point, but honestly didn't remember anything about.

And frankly, given how scattershot the plot is at points, that isn't a big surprise. 

Kiron and Aket-ten are having separation missions throughout, as she's stationed in Mephis and trying to raise a female only wing of dragon jousters and Kiron is at the newly discovered city of Aerie trying to find ways to keep the Jousters active. 

Eventually, among all the relationship drama, Kiron discovers a plot that leads back to the long ago vanished Nameless Ones, which ends up getting Aket-ten and him going to the Two kingdom border with the Chosen of Seft. 

And eventually, Altia gets attacked by the tribe of the East with their Goddess of Vengeance, Tamat. 

Oh yeah, and a subplot about one of Aket-ten's trainees finding Kiron's mother. 

Despite my quibble about the plot being scattershot, there is actually a very interesting argument in here about the relationship between Gods and Humans, and how both end up influencing the other. That made the latter half much more interesting.

A rose in winter stilll smells of rose

 I actually finished Seanan McGuire's A Killing Frost last week, but given I was on vacation...

 Again, we're back in October Daye's liminal world of fairie, and we're still waiting on our Dochas Sidhe changeling to marries her cait sidhe suitor.  

This time, she gets sidetracked by a quest out of the Kingdom of Saltmist, as Dianda points out her fey father Simon (who was good, then lost his way again) has to approve or he can claim insult. This sends Toby running around stirring up several hornet's nests to find Simon again, then figure out how to give him his way back. (Which involves finding something REALLY important, which becomes the point of the book by the end.) 

Anyway, since it is October, everything works out fairly well in the end, with quite a few surprises along the way. Hopefully the next book shows us more of what the repercussions of those are, since I'm kind of curious as to what happens now.