Seveneves: a very not-little book about the importance of the moon

Neal Stephenson doesn't do anything half-assed. Following his career from the beginning when he came screaming onto the scene with Snow Crash - a slick, funny smart younger sibling of Burning Chrome by William Gibson, he was immediately recognized as worth your attention. A gifted storyteller with a wild imagination, Stephenson stories are rich with the unexpected and clever. A lot's change since Crash, and Stephenson has revealed himself as a little bit of a polymath-cum-renaissance man. It shows in every one of his increasingly dense tomes that show off his big, sexy brain. His books, if lobbed from a window would (hopefully) instantly kill the unlucky pedestrian below. They also double as a bludgeon, or as fellow Okie Geek Joshua Unruh is fond pointing out: a doorstop. 

I adored Snow Crash for what it was: fun, funny and fast. It was the last of Stephenson's books of a manageable size. Since then he's been wowing us with HUGE stories filled with intricate world-building and lush narratives that we inhabit for weeks, sometimes months as we experience the wonderful. 

Stephenson isn't just asking for your attention. He's the real deal, baby - he wants a commitment and if you're willing, he will take you on a trip that you can't get out of your head. But only after you've got the lingo down (no, really - Anathem has an actual glossary) and you can describe, from stem to stern the world in which all the action happens. Along the way you'll meet fascinating characters — in The Baroque Cycle, follow the adventures of the plucky (and not particularly lucky) Jack Shaftoe, a syphilitic (of course) former navy man-turned-pirate as "The Imp of the Perverse" leads him on improbable adventures. While telling his and several other people's stories, Stephenson manages to inform readers of the history (part of) world, especially the provenance of the modern financial system, primarily dealing with coinage. Yeah, it's that kind of story. Stephenson's works, when broken down by plot description, sound like PhD dissertation topics. Isaac Newton makes regular appearances.

It's wonderful. It's daunting. For someone who's thrilled at the prospect of spending no less than two months on a trilogy, it's so firmly up my alley. 

"The challenge of writing a novel in which some of the most important entities are rocks is that some of the most important entities are rocks." - Charles Yu, Sunday Book Review - New York Times, 27 May 2015

Seveneves is a treatise on the future of the human race via our scientific achievements in the middle of the 21st Century. It was my favorite book of 2015, and as my fellow hosts and sweet husband can attest, I couldn't shut up about it for months. It took me a good month to read, which is unheard of. I'm always snatching a few more minutes to continue the story, and I read really, really fast. This one took me what felt like forever, with more joy every minute. 

It begins with an unemotional account of the day we lost the moon. In the telling of this event, the author treats us, in hindsight to a dispassionate-yet-intricate description of what happened and it's effect on the characters — of which there will be very few in a short time. A few days later, the world's leading scientific minds arrive at the ramifications of the loss of the moon, and the importance of that beautiful orb hanging in our sky. 

If you are not comfortable with loving and detailed descriptions of celestial bodies, (and, okay - I really don't understand, but,) I can firmly say that this is not the book for you. Part of the joy of this book is the loving descriptions of that beautiful rock that keeps the tides in working order, and how much we would miss her were she gone. Succinctly — that's the story of Seveneves — and that's not the story at all. The opening action seems almost random until you are firmly in the story. Not a word or a moment is wasted. Nothing is unnecessary. The editing must have been brutal. What remains is jaw-dropping.

It's that kind of story. 

What follows is an impossibly good narrative about space, science, human technology and advancement told in detail that would, in less capable hands, make the most ardent science wonk squirm. And yet, when told in Stephenson's passionately curious and ridiculously informed voice: the novel is part tech manual, part compassionate meditation on the best and absolute worst that humanity has to offer. 

The result is simply staggering. It's all the things the author has to say about science in all its geeky detail — it's beautiful, it's hopeful and it's the author (and his characters) at their nerdy, curious and absolute best. 

(And if there's any objective way to express how profoundly this book moved me, it took me six months to be able to articulate it in words, rather than enthusiastic high-fives - real or emoji.)

I like big books and I cannot lie ... (I tackle doorstop fiction so you don't have to).

I am an exceptionally fast reader. I always have been. I don't skim, I don't "speed read", I read voraciously and anything I can get my hands on. So, while the sight of a weighty tome, one that could be used as a doorstop, might make some readers quail, if I'm hooked within a few pages, it's on. Knowing that I will have something to read for the next few days is simply a relief. Reading is something I absolutely cannot do without — it was my first addiction and earned me the completely original nickname "bookworm" among my cousins. Books have been my companion for some very lonely times and places. You can plunk me down in the corner with a good book and probably forget about me for a while. My mother told me "when you're a reader, you never have a reason to be scared or lonely, ever." 
I will read just about anything I can get my hands on, and when I can fall into a narrative that I'm loving, I can think of far worse scenarios. I'm discerning, but not overly concerned what anyone else thinks of my choices and neither should you. It's true that reading is good for your brain, and a good narrative is as much escape as mental exercise. And while it should be pleasurable, something that you're not enjoying is absolutely okay to put down. Yep, I've put down Catch-22 more than a few times. I know that Kurt Vonnegut endorsed it, and kudos, Mr. Heller. It doesn't speak to me, at least yet. 
I used to feel guilty about not finishing books that I didn't enjoy, plugging through until the end until I realized, it could be just as much about you as the author. It's not the right time for that book. Put it down, and if it's something you really want to finish, pick it up again in a few months. My friend described a certain book as a "joyful experience" today &mdash that was the perfect turn of phrase. Anything that isn't for you — unless you're simply in a masochistic frame of mind — it's alright to let find you again when it's time, which may be never. 
Meanwhile, I'll be over in the corner with something to read. The really big ones? I'm thrilled to embark on that journey and let you know whether you should jump on that train. Maybe you can put this down and go grab some Pahlaniuk, which I HIGHLY recommend. He's a Hemingway, never giving more information than you need. Make no mistake: I do not believe that because a book is long, it's good. For example, I am not a big Tolkein fan. I don't enjoy two pages to describe something that takes two sentences. When you delve into an author, you're asking to trust them, and be trusted in return. Any author who is not complicit in this agreement is okay to put down. It's a relationship — if it's not mutually beneficial, move on. Meanwhile, I'll be over here, nose in a big book. Don't bother me, I'm reading and working on my elevator pitch for this book I want you all to read. 

(Originally published on my own blog, Life and Other Fatal Pursuits).

My life with Star Wars

Later tonight, my wife and I are going to see "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" in the theater. This will actually be the first new Star Wars movie I have seen in the theater since "Phantom Menace" back in 1999.

I have actually had a turbulent time with Star Wars throughout my life.

My first memory of Star Wars was actually the trailer for the movie back in 1977. My father and I were watching a movie and it came on during the previews. The lasers and the spaceships and the special effects made both our jaws drop. We turned to each other and said "Oh, we have to see this."

And we did. My father took me to see the movie at North Park when I was eight years old. It was the summer of 1977.

Like the rest of the world, I fell in love immediately. I wanted all the stuff. I remember collecting toy proofs of purchase to send away to get a Boba Fett action figure. I'm sure I watched the "Star Wars Holiday Special" on CBS which probably at the time seemed good (again I was under the age of 10), but I remember nothing of it except for the cartoon with Boba Fett in it.

When "Empire Strikes Back" came out in 1980, I had my first experience with a spoiler. I was going to see the movie that weekend, but before that I was at a Cub Scout event with another kid who had already seen it. He told me that Darth Vader was Luke's dad. It was still an amazing movie!

In 1983, everyone was ready to see what we thought was just going to be the next chapter in the Star Wars sage, not the last! I went with my dad and some of his friends to a theater in Norman to see "Return of the Jedi". I remember the line was wrapped around the block. Back then movies were shown in just one theater, so you had to wait for that one to get out before you could see the next one.

Nowadays, they just open every theater in the cinema, until they're full.

After Return of the Jedi, my love of Star Wars waned as nothing new was forthcoming. My toys disappeared, and I think they might have actually been buried in my backyard.

For 15 years, I had no interest in Star Wars with the exception of watching the movies every now and then on VHS and then DVD.

In 1999, the whole world got excited again as a new Star Wars movie was getting released. I was just as excited. My friends and I picked an obscure theater in Midwest City rather than the mega cinemas to go see it on opening night so we wouldn't have to deal with the crowds which isn't much different than what I'm doing this year. We showed up at noon for the movie which was going to premiere that night. We wanted to be first in line. We were. In fact we were the only ones in line for the entire day. Eventually, they let us in, and I watched the last newly released Star Wars movie in a theater.

"Phantom Menace" was so bad, that I lost all interest in Star Wars for ten years. I watched "Attack of the Clones" and "Revenge of the Sith" when they came out on DVD, but not in the theater. As far as I was concerned it was over.

In 2009, I started discovering the expanded universe in comics and novels. Also, my son and I started watching "Star Wars: The Clone Wars" television show. Both were evidence to me of what Star Wars could be like if any one other than George Lucas was creating content.

It was excellent!!!

When news came that Disney was buying Star Wars from George Lucas and producing new films, I was overjoyed. I have nothing personally against Lucas. He created a wonderful galaxy, but he was truly at his best when he worked in collaboration with others like Lawrence Kasdan on "Empire Strikes Back" who is, BTW, also co-writing "The Force Awakens".

When Lucas tried to create something on his own, we got midichloreans and Jar Jar Binks.

The new age of Star Wars truly began in the summer of September of 2014 with the release of the novel "A New Dawn" and the premiere of "Star Wars: Rebels".

And, I have been along for the ride the entire time. I have read all the books and comics (with the exception of "Tarkin"). Everything released so far has been wonderful.

I can't remember the last time I have been excited about a movie, and I promise to avoid any spoilers on here or in social media.

For nearly 40 years, I've been on this roller coaster ride with Star Wars and I look forward to 40 more!

So, what's you're experience with Star Wars? Let me know in the comments...

Public radio and I are BFFs, FYI.

I love to work, and nothing prepares you for the first surprise of realizing you love your job. You no longer see it as a thing that you do between fun times, but as an enriching, engaging important thing in your life. I had the pleasure of that at Oklahoma Gazette -- a haven for free-thinking liberal minded people. We affectionately call it "the blue bubble", and it's packed to the gills with NPR listening, local-food eating rational, (I admit, some days I refer to them as "sane". I realize the implications.) loving people who love their state, their neighbors and wow, do they love their NPR. I suspect a lot of it is so we don't feel quite as alone. And then there's the local personalities, who have actual personalities and thankfully have nothing to do with their distant cousins in the wild, with their attempts at blue material during prime broadcast time and whose idea of "challenging and insightful" include finding new ways to shame the newest ingenue pop star who might have different ideas about her body than a OKC morning radio deejay.

KGOU/KOSU have been a dramatically important part of my life since I was about 17 when I was flipping through the dial in my 1987 Honda Civic and realized that this "talk radio" as I always called it when my parents had it on, was actually interesting. Here were these lucky people whose job it was to get on the mic and tell people about what was going on out there on this green and blue ball we share. And They did it in the most engaging, authoritative and welcoming way. Here was a chance for me to be alone and tune into a learning experience that felt tailored to me. None of that stuffy lecture-hall stuff. This was in turns funny, insightful and relevant.  

Then one day not long after, that summer, I was up in Stillwater, Oklahoma doing a "nerd camp" at Oklahoma State University -- this one was Biophysics. There were these exceptionally cool ladies and dudes and they were so cool and mature and possessed of this incredible nonchalance. Smoking their cigarettes and helping me (ME! Awkward, gawky, bespectacled me!) get a rebellious new haircut and dye it a shocking color (mom was cool, Dad was less than thrilled but not over the moon). We did it all while listening to, you guessed it: NPR. If this is what the cool, smart kids were loving, maybe my parents were right for once.

Fast-forward a few years and I was coasting along with my best friend, visiting her adopted hometown of Los Angeles. It was a perfect early summer day and we were cruising with the top down along the Pacific Coast Highway. We were ridiculously young and had all the answers. Ira Glass and his new-ish show was on and I was introduced not only to Ira, (whom after 20 years of keeping each other company on weekend mornings, are on a first-name-basis), but to David Sedaris, who my stepmother was especially fond of. During this broadcast I found out why -- his charming and self-deprecating manner combined with a razor-sharp, innate cleverness made us instant friends. It was a perfect day, gone too soon and well-preserved in that romantic haze that makes all memories like that sweet. I have countless examples when Public Radio has played a part in one of those, and I treasure every one. 

I am a journalist, and as I have grown and matured in my life and in my work, NPR has always been my home. While I was living in China and feeling desperately homesick, I would jump online and listen to streaming broadcast from Oklahoma. Since falling into journalism, I have learned a lot about what makes it truly unique. Listening to it in whatever location I find myself, and learning the particulars of a new station is as natural as unpacking your things and finding that perfect spot for that special knick-knack that you have carried with you on every move, even though you know that it's a minor detail. It's what makes a house a home.

It's all books all the time this week on Okie Geek, and just in case you missed something, we got your back!

...And Episode 10 of Okie Geek Podcast is a wrap, and boy it was more fun than a barrel of monkeys We could have talked for hours. Put a bunch of nerds in a room -- imagine that. Put a bunch of incredibly well-read people with diverse and convergent interests, well -- that's a party.

If you're curious about any of the books we talked about on the show, Here's a list of most of those mentioned, including those added by our kind listeners.

SO, in a sort of particular order, mentioned on the most recent episode (Aug.8 2015 episode  of Okie Geek Podcast, here goes:

(AHEM: *READ LOCAL - Okie writers!)

Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel

Teenagers from the Future by Timothy Callahan, ed.

The Years of Lyndon Johnson by Robert A. Caro (currently four out of a five-book series)

The Maze Runner Trilogy by James Dashner

The Dresden Files by James Butcher

Ready Player One by Earnest Cline

The MANY short stories of R.A. Lafferty*

Star Wars: Aftermath by Chuck Wendig

The Lord of the Rings trilogy by Tolkien, it comes up a lot.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

The Tripod Trilogy by John Christopher

The Flood (Oryx & Crake) Trilogy by Margaret Atwood

The Long and Faraway Gone by Lou Berney*

The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler

The Dark Tower Series - Stephen King

Hero for Hire by C.B. Pratt*

Legends of the Lightwalkers by Courtney Cantrell*

UPCOMING BOOKS you heard about here first, possibly:

Armada - Ernest Cline

the Cinderspire Series by Jim Butcher (First book releases 9-29, The Aeronaut's Windlass)

EVERYTHING by Tom Robbins. You're welcome. Start with Another Roadside Attraction and have tissues handy for Jitterbug Perfume.

And just a few that we didn't have time to mention, but put them on your list:

The Book Thief  by Marcus Zusak

Shades of London series by Maureen Johnson

Horns and NOS482 by Joe Hill

the Odd Thomas series by Dean Koontz

His Dark Materials (trilogy) by Philip Pullman

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach (and then go read EVERYTHING this woman has written.)

The Psychopath Test and Men Who Stare at Goats by Jon Ronson

Pirate Hunter: The True Story of Captain Kidd and An Underground Education by Richard Zacks

Agent Zig Zag by Ben Macintyre


... and check back often, there's bound to be more to come!

Meanwhile - Happy reading! We'd love to add your recommendations! You can comment here, or you can find us on Facebook and Twitter, too!

Okie Geek Podcast consists of our fearless leader, Micheal Cross, along with the so well-respected, erudite and witty they take him out in public Chase Harvick, bookslinging (and writing) badass, Joshua Unruh and the wordslinger-for-hire Devon Green.

Books are an apocalypse in a plain wrapper - A love letter.

“I have always imagined paradise will be a kind of library” - Borges

And oh! The way they smell! When I was a youngster, still in braids, not yet in braces, I vividly remember our weekly trip to the library with my mother. She once told me when I was little that, "if you're a reader, you'll never be bored, but more importantly, you'll never be lonely." As an avid reader herself, I cannot imagine that she thought this to be anything but the TRUTH, and thank goodness, even though I was a child, she caught me at the that magical time when parents know everything, so I took it to heart.

Oh, how right she was. Reading is a magical place to escape and connect simultaneously, and if it weren't for books, well, I would probably be in a rubber room right now. If not somewhere worse. It sounds like hyperbole to non-readers, but you know what I'm talking about. It's that and music. They can save your life. There's this great Smiths lyric that always pops into mind:

But don't forget the songs that made you cry,

                                                    and the songs that saved your life.
                                         Yes, you're older now, and you're a clever swine,
                                          but they're the only ones who ever stood by you. -The Smiths
Swap out "books" for songs, and the simple message is still there. Books DO stand by you. They will never leave you, and they're a tangible thing you can carry with you long after you close the cover because it's an idea. And ideas have the power to change you. I cut my teeth on "Nancy Drew" -- she fed my innate curiosity and a great female role model, looking back. I liked them for that, but I couldn't have articulated it. I just knew that The Hardy Boys couldn't quite hold my attention the same way.
I remember being so riveted by Tiger Eye by Judy Blume that I didn't want to go on some "lame" family outing that day on summer vacation. Before I could even read I remember being captivated by the illustrations in Maurice Sendak and Edward Gorey's books. To this day they are still my top two illustrators/artists on the list. Which came first in Devon? The art with the subversion or the subversion that was encouraged by the art? I do know I asked a LOT of questions. And that I still do. And that I learned from the best - Nancy and Blume's protagonists, to name just a small sample.

Another magical thing about books? They tend to appear in your life when you need THAT idea at that particular time. I can't count the number of times that a book has suddenly appeared in my life and did so much to elevate me out of my funk, or shake up my worldview. Time and time again, a book appears and before you know it, *poof*, you're someone just a little bit more clever or informed or just simply NOT ALONE in your thoughts. Which -- especially as an adolescent, spending a lot of time in your thoughts and feeling alone are natural, but too much of a brooding mind can be a very dangerous thing. I've lost count of the time that I felt the author reach across the table and grasp my hand simply to say, "I've been there, and I'm here now." Talk about a powerful, intimate connection. And that's not even taking into account that words are powerful things. The use of language is not to be taken lightly, and in the right hands, can soar higher than the most beautiful hymns by a choir. A choir only for you.

I'll never forget my sophomore English teacher pulling me aside after class and handing me a heavily Xeroxed copy of "Harrison Bergeron" by Kurt Vonnegut. That simple wisp of a story did more to warp my worldview than I can I even say -- having now read everything in the Vonnegut canon, most of them at least twice, most of them many, it was a crack in a wall between me and the people I went around with at school that just didn't get it. Forget Holden Caulfield, the whiny, privileged little snit. Give me Harrison and his bravery and his decision to be himself any day. It made it okay, in that unique way that adolescence makes you view things, it made it alright that I was different from them. And rather than try my hardest to match them and embrace that type of life -- of fitting in, of conforming, I should embrace my different-ness. It made me special. Let's be clear, I didn't ditch my pearls and throw away my pom poms -- I wasn't trying that hard. But it almost hit me with an audible THUD that not only was it okay to be different, it was something to be celebrated. In a cliche -- it put me on the path. And I never looked back. That way was madness. It was liberation, escape, and validation.
I devoured Vonnegut, Twain and Salinger in a gulp -- his others are so much more lively, loving and much more at ease with themselves. Vonnegut did the most to put things in perspective. Twain, I felt could reach through time and space and reassure me that I could be both a romantic and a cynic at the same time. And it was okay to be broken-hearted about parts of it, too. Not to diminish the fact that he was dead funny. And I once read a critic say that, "Salinger loves his characters more than God loves them." I remain steadfast in my love for the Glass children, and imagine them in my own head-canon as the family that he WISHED he had, and/or could be a part of.
I wrote a senior thesis on Anais Nin and nearly got in big trouble about it. Catholic School - senior with a 4.0, well, I did get a talking-to about "appropriate vs. Inappropriate". My final paper was a heavily edited compromise. It helps the teacher liked me, and it was a damn good paper. Looking back on my 18 year-old self, I wish I could tell myself that IT JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER. I didn't get Candide the first time around. But by the time that one rolled back into my life? Boy, howdy. I didn't know it at the time, but Margaret Wise Brown's The Runaway Bunny is an allegory for the soul. BOOM. Another audible thud was Douglas Adams' holy series, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It's always perspective, and if you want to test a nerd? Just say "SEP" and see their reaction. Margaret Atwood's The Handmade's Tale launched me into her wonderful and erudite vision of the world, concluding with The Flood Trilogy which, to say the least, left me shaken and wanting a WHOLE lot more. The list goes on and on, and I'm a speed-reader at that. I don't skim. I've just had a little practice. Chuck Palahniuk up until Rant, which I admit, I just don't get, is our generation's Hemingway and I never get tired of his tone and brevity, especially in his first three. Beautiful in their simplicity and economy of language is TOUGH. He's masterful. I took his message to heart, perhaps a little too literally at times.
There's a huge dollop of non-fiction, too: Mary Roach, especially Stiff and Bonk, but she could write about toilet paper and I'd be compelled. Anything by Richard Zacks is both elucidating and entertaining as hell. And a special mention for The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot -- not just a hell of a read, but a fascinating journey into medicine and ethics, among other toughies. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver will change how you think about your food, and therefore, probably your life.
Oliver Sacks, for whom there is no equal and I recently learned has terminal cancer has so affected my world-view and what it means to be a healer that I cried at my desk when I learned it. You don't know you know him, but you do. Look him up and read EVERYTHING. That should keep you busy for a while. Don't worry, I'm full of them.

And just so there's no confusion -- The Dark Tower series by Stephen King is my Tolkien. And yes, I'm admitting it out loud here -- it's better, to me, than Lord of the Rings. Not to mention, almost every single Stephen King book is tied into the universe that is The Dark Tower series. That's a hell of a rabbit hole, and so worth the journey. There's no mad hatter at the end, it's much, much more of a twist.

We will shine, and we will be magnificent. -- Roland of Gilead, the Gunslinger

Benewski's House of Leaves left me so unsettled that I still can't quite articulate it. And the Ass Saw the Angel by Nick Cave upset me so much I still don't like talking about it. By the time I discovered Hemingway, forget about it. I'm a junkie. I have a problem, and it isn't any problem at all, except if I have nothing to read. And that's not even delving into my addiction to crime fiction/detective stories - I always have two or three I'm reading at once. To name a few -- Chandler's so good they named a trope after him. I have read every single Robert Crais novel there is, and will continue to do so until he up and stops. Which will be a sad day. And probably my favorite mystery writer working today - Harlan Coben, oh, what a delight. Every book is a treasure, and he is a masterful writer. It's hard to balance funny and serious, and he changes tone so smoothly, it appears effortless. That's a feat.

Books keep me sane, brimming with ideas, connected and intimate with a person who put those words on the page and with a sense of kinship that perhaps those words were put down just for you, just that moment. Books are magical things. As I said, they're an idea and they have a power to change you. So, I suppose this is my love letter to them. All of them, and all of those that had the courage to lay themselves naked on the page for all to see. Look close enough, and if you're lucky you'll see yourself reflected in the whites of their eyes.

Our upcoming podcast, which you can find ALL OVER that magical internets and keep track of our amazing and rich lives of culture, coolness (because we all know that part of the definition of "cool" is liking what you like and not giving a whit about what people think about you), nerd/geek culture, and the magic that happens when we take over the airwaves. It's our therapy, and it's all for our and your entertainment. Enough said. We have a heck of a great time. I guarantee you will, too. Go have a listen, and then engage with us - we're pretty easy to find.

Meanwhile ...

Keep Calm and Geek on.

#geeklife

"Ready Player One" Succeeds in beautifully combining the future and the past.

Full disclosure: I am a child of the late 70s and early 80s. I graduated from high school in 1987, so I have a love of anything from those decades.

It's quite possible, Ready Player One by Earnest Cline was written with my generation in mind.

The story line without being to spoiler-y: It's 30 years in the future, and things aren't going well. Poverty is rampant and the corporations have for the most part assumed control. On the plus side, technology has advanced to include a virtual reality world known as OASIS. The fully immersive world was created by James Halliday who was born in 1972, so, like me, he had an absolute love of the 80s. At the beginning of the book Halliday, who is incredibly rich after inventing OASIS, dies and leaves his entire fortune to whomever can find the secret hidden within the program which consists of thousand of worlds and locations.

The quest for Halliday's "Easter Egg" creates a new found love of anything from the late 70s and early 80s especially in the realm of science fiction, role-playing games, music and video games.

There are wonderful mentions to things I held dear as a young person, like WarGames, Dungeons & Dragons and Joust, but even if you were born after the 80s, it's still an enjoyable book. Cline does a wonderful job of explaining the references so the reader doesn't feel lost. I admit there are things I didn't always get, especially some of the Japanese Television shows, but I was still able to understand it.

Nostalgia for the 80s appears to be fairly common currently. Big Trouble in Little China and Edward Scissorhands both have returned in comic book form, new movies are coming out based off National Lampoon's Vacation, Ghost Busters and Star Wars and there's even an appearance in Seth MacFarlane's Ted 2 by Sam J. Jones who played Flash Gordon in 1980.

But, just having awesome 80s references in a distopian future isn't enough to make a great novel. Earnest Cline makes Ready Player One a fantastic read through great character development and wonderful story telling. I felt like I was on the adventure with the main character as he sought clues to the puzzle. I even had dreams trying to figure out the riddles until the next time I could return to reading the book.

I highly recommend Ready Player One (in fact I handed the book over to my wife as soion as I turned the last page) and look forward to seeing your comments...