Apart from wracking my brain at work and dealing with a few projects on the side, I've been struggling to get some good reading time in. Two nights ago, I managed to finish Jack London's The Shadow and the Flash, an exquisitely written science-fiction short story. I've also begun to read Jules Verne's The Day of an American Journalist in 2889, and AC Ellis' The Chanter. I've downloaded a bunch of short stories from the net, which should be enough material for the next two weeks.
When my eyes get tired from all the text, I switch to a comics trade or a graphic novel. My cousin's lovey lent his collection of The Invisibles, which I'm downing ever so slowly as strongly recommended by Vin and Nikki. Grant Morrisson knows his death and despair, magic and mayhem, and may-I-fuck-your brain concepts, so I'm being a bit careful with it. I'm already working myself up to a nervous breakdown as it is.
While I haven't finished Kia Asamiya's Batman: Child of Dreams, I can safely say that Batman and manga-by-Asamiya don't mix. The art may be gorgeous, but you know there's something wrong when you see how Arkham Asylum resembles St. Lukes Medical Center.