Rugged frontiersman Anton Vuorilheto sent me this photo of him getting closer to nature with his Best Served Cold. Watch out for that waterfall, Anton!
How do you eat yours?
Posted in Uncategorized by Joe Abercrombie on October 13th, 2009.
In bed, mostly. Getting crumbs all over the place. Keeping me awake at night. To fight the boredom that is Lying Awake, I further devour BSC. Getting crumbs all over the place. Keeping me awake at night.
I read in the bus back to germany. It was very cramped, and that night mostly all of my classmates *hated* me, 'cause of me they couldn't get sleep. It was kind of funny…well that was until my favorite [insert here sarcasm] confiscated the book. Then I had to sleep in that damn cramped bus. Wonderful memories. The rest of BSC I read home. Sitting on the floor, with my dog lying next to me.
On the tube, sweating out into a suit that I've just had dry-cleaned, surrounded by other filth ridden commuters, imagining what it'd be like to be a lump of offal being made into a sausage, really craving pop-tarts
Books of Joe Abercrombie are useful for many things: I use mine as badminton racket (you never ever before have seen a ball smashed so fast), you can spank your husband on the head or bum when he has said something stupid (happens very often); hereby naked bum preferable, you can sit on it in nature; backside stays dry and warm, you can use it as club while riding your bike; thereby hitting pedestrians if they do not move out of the way fast enough and of course you can simply read it everywhere and have a nice time, even if everything else falls apart.
If not at home, at university during lecture. Pretending to brood over some "incredibly fascinating" linguistics book, something like "medieval translation: theory and practice"
I am using my copy as a handbook to claw my way to power across a field of burnt and broken bodies. Step 1: am digging holes near ruined farms looking for hidden cellars full of keys, weapons, clothes and a hidden hoard of gold coins. No luck so far. Maybe I shouldn't have skipped the bit about surviving a fall into a ravine by landing on the broken corpse of my murdered brother?
Reading BSC was actually a very delicate excercise as I didn't want any creases in my lovely 'best gift ever' ARC (again thank you so much Joe!). So I never opened it more than a couple of centimeters, just enough to read the text. Not very comfortable, but worth every minute of it!
I'm like poor old Harvey, beefing up the right wrist holding the BSC hardback whilst standing on an overcrowded tubetrain. There must be better ways to beef up the right wrist… On the brightside, having a weapon at hand is always reassuring in rush hour tube-traffic.
Locked in my room ignoring the knocks at the door while I enjoy a puff on my "husk pipe" or reading through the night because I couldn't put the book down.
18 comments so far
In bed, mostly. Getting crumbs all over the place. Keeping me awake at night. To fight the boredom that is Lying Awake, I further devour BSC. Getting crumbs all over the place. Keeping me awake at night.
It does make for some very tasty nights.
I read in the bus back to germany.
It was very cramped, and that night mostly all of my classmates *hated* me, 'cause of me they couldn't get sleep.
It was kind of funny…well that was until my favorite [insert here sarcasm] confiscated the book.
Then I had to sleep in that damn cramped bus.
Wonderful memories.
The rest of BSC I read home.
Sitting on the floor, with my dog lying next to me.
On the tube, sweating out into a suit that I've just had dry-cleaned, surrounded by other filth ridden commuters, imagining what it'd be like to be a lump of offal being made into a sausage, really craving pop-tarts
I read mine with all the windows open, and my feet in a bucket of ice.
In the garden, soaking up the sun.
Books of Joe Abercrombie are useful for many things: I use mine as badminton racket (you never ever before have seen a ball smashed so fast), you can spank your husband on the head or bum when he has said something stupid (happens very often); hereby naked bum preferable, you can sit on it in nature; backside stays dry and warm, you can use it as club while riding your bike; thereby hitting pedestrians if they do not move out of the way fast enough and of course you can simply read it everywhere and have a nice time, even if everything else falls apart.
If not at home, at university during lecture. Pretending to brood over some "incredibly fascinating" linguistics book, something like "medieval translation: theory and practice"
Joe-
How can we go about getting a book or 4 signed by you?
I am using my copy as a handbook to claw my way to power across a field of burnt and broken bodies. Step 1: am digging holes near ruined farms looking for hidden cellars full of keys, weapons, clothes and a hidden hoard of gold coins. No luck so far. Maybe I shouldn't have skipped the bit about surviving a fall into a ravine by landing on the broken corpse of my murdered brother?
Reading BSC was actually a very delicate excercise as I didn't want any creases in my lovely 'best gift ever' ARC (again thank you so much Joe!). So I never opened it more than a couple of centimeters, just enough to read the text. Not very comfortable, but worth every minute of it!
I'm like poor old Harvey, beefing up the right wrist holding the BSC hardback whilst standing on an overcrowded tubetrain.
There must be better ways to beef up the right wrist…
On the brightside, having a weapon at hand is always reassuring in rush hour tube-traffic.
I'd post a photo, but I doubt anyone wants to see me in the tub. (Seriously, you don't.)
On't' shitter. 😛
Over breakfast, with a cup of black coffee…
On Waikiki beach. I can't think of anywhere better to enjoy it.
Locked in my room ignoring the knocks at the door while I enjoy a puff on my "husk pipe" or reading through the night because I couldn't put the book down.
In the shitty hostel next to hpark, waitin for nhill carnival durin rainy days.
I read before going to bed and when I’m out having lunch/dinner at a restraunt (yes, I’m one of those sad people you see eating alone).