peter rietbergen

Political thriller meets near-sci-fi. An exciting mix.

It definitely is a good chapter, but to be really honest: I feel you turn Tommy into another Jonah. For me that doesn't quite work.

If I were Chris, I'd tell K: suit yourself.

No James Bond film can hold a candle to this saga.

The soufflés had risen cleanly, dusted with powdered honey and the barest whisper of sweetener. Dexter noted the height, the color—and something else. No sugar on the palate. When he broke the surface with his spoon, the give was different. No egg structure. He tasted: rich chocolate, moist crumb, a silky center, a hazelnut note—Nutella, likely. Mouth-watering. A preper end to an unusual story. Thanks.

The drone's chassis exploded in a shower of plastic and failing circuits. The world did not go black. It dissolved into a final, catastrophic error message. A scream of overloading processors, a flash of searing heat, and then… the serene, absolute zero of termination. Given the world's present, desolate state - and the role of a few men who I hold responsible - I wish I had the command over a few drones that could penetrate their defences and declare their mission an aberration - to then return to at least a modicum of "normalcy"....without, alas, holding out much hope for a really better future...

But of course.... Even so: exciting.

In many ways, this is a very good, and, also, convincing chapter indeed. Only the scene(s) where Christian goes down to the basement to feed J: it is told as if N and Jonah can see it. And, later, the bathroom-scene, too, seems to have conflicting "perpectives". But: never mind... As to an "ideal" sequel: hard to say. In real life, the healing of Jack would take a long time indeed. Whether it is interesting enough a process to structure another story, a sequel...? But: without it, there may be no story. A difficult choice.

Of course, it was obvious B and Luke were more than future in-laws. And of course Luke wanted Lyn to understand that any hopes he might have had of B should be over. Of course, there still is that moment "eight years" ago that we do not yet know about, but should explain a lot, if not everything. But it will not explain Lyn's obtuse stupidity in so many fields. Thinking that A has a long history of female courtships or what not - why has he never even asked, not even after the fuck-sessions with A in the present? And why is Lyn telling himself that A is his "best friend" now - after those eight years of crushing on Brad (which, admiddtedly, i find hard to believe in any adult...) and after, as far as I can make out, not having set an eye on A for the entire period? Indeed, despite Cane23's "defense'of Lyn's sharp intuition, I feel that, at least regarding his won (emotional) life, he's almost totally led by rather primitive instincts....

If only all GA writers were as careful as you generally are....

while I can see the "appela"of this fantasy, I would argue that, especially in such a specific sport as boxing, it will not work, neither physically nor psychologically. As to the reactions of any onlookers - besides, of course, fans of porn...More than highly unlikely.

and hold everyone to the same standards; noble or commoner, yo never go around wearing simple clothes and no jewellery there's a bit of a muddle, here, I think. But again: an interesting chapter, also because the Throne/Altar controversy is a perennial one....

I'll definitely miss The Towers, and its comforting group of inhabitants! Thanks for bringing them into our lives...😄

“You know, everyone knows football is the gayest sport of them all,” Marcus said as he started towards his table. “I’m surprised you don’t play.” “I’m not that gay.” A funny parting shot....

He turned, leaning back against his desk. "Your presence here, Alejandro, is… conspicuous. You are too perfect for this school, I’ve read your entrance file. And Brian here is never this far from the ovens unless he’s in trouble, he has the artistic talent of a baked potato." “Hey!” Brian protested. “Cooking’s art!” “I’ve had your scones,” Mr. Davos shot back. “I believe I still have one propping open the supply closet door over there.” He gestured to where a conspicuous scone sat, indeed, being used as a door stop. Alex felt the familiar chill of being seen. This man wasn't just a teacher; he was an observer, a man who understood the language of façade. "My father insisted I review the facilities to ensure I was exposed to the full academic spectrum," Alex explained, offering his polished lie. "I find art to be an interesting study in chaos theory." Davos chuckled—a short, dry sound. "Bullshit, art is not chaos, Mr. Alvarez. It is the precise control of chaos. And you, I suspect, are entirely too focused on control." He picked up a piece of chalk, drew a single, clean line on the blackboard, and then turned back to them. "If you are going to lie, at least make the lie interesting," Davos said, echoing Brian's own earlier demand. "Now, I suggest you leave. I have work to do, and I don't appreciate having my time wasted by boys playing tonsil hockey in my art room." A splendid paragraph...

Maybe I'm a sloppy reader, but some things seem a bit strange... The "I" in this chapter is Creek. Why then should he have to answer questions about himself and Emma - Emma being Marvins 'secret' non-wife? And why would Creek say he's been alone so long? In chapter six baby F is six months. And Sky died giving birth to him. That means Creek has lost Skye six months ago. That isn't long - and, if I may add: maybe a rather short time to then feel the need to find someone else. But on that point I shouldn't be judgmental....Loneliness can be terrible. By the way - or, really: a central element in this story is Creek and Forest. Those secenes are splendid.

I'm 68, and have three grandchildren around the age of 15 - two boys, one girl. They're alle "intellectually" smart - but emotionally...

Indeed. One of my most pressing questions - not being American... - is why nowadays young men (and women) would want to fight for any of the causes espoused, or orders issued by a president who doesn't embody even a single atom of the beliefs that his predecessors held. True, to an outsider the American political system, even the very constitution itself is fraught with possibilities for large-scale corruption, and former presidents were no saints, nor were their governments. But at least the people by and large could believe that following government policy, even if it did cost them some prosperity, was the right thing to do. I can even see why Vietnam, Afghanistan and Irak happened. But what is now going on in the country itself: incomprehensible.

Love, or at least: infatuation, a.k.a. a crush, make a person blind. The author tells us to believe that L is "in love" with B. So be it. But it is difficult for this reader to accept the premise that Alexander is even B's friend, given that he sees B for what he is: shallow, opportunist, egocentric.

A terrible and terrific chapter. Though I still do not feel the dialogues really reflect what fifteen-year olds would think and say.

The scene at the diner is moving, the truth of the war as a lense on the life following it is powerful notion. But while I'm not the kind of reader who asks such questions, yet: will the idyll last...?

The realism is a healthy antidote to the - far too many - sugar-coated dreams of the majority of tales in GA. Thanks.

Congrats. And I absolutely love the few words describing the nervous shredding ot the sugar packets. That's so real!

Ah, yes: breakfast. Nutrients vs palate-pleasers.

It's great to be able to start enjoying another story of one of my favourite authors.