It’s a coming-of-age-story, wrapped in gritty, historical fiction, and packaged as an adventure saga. The Last Kingdom is an easy read, and the plot moves quickly. I know the opinion is an unoriginal one, but I am stubborn. The argument is a tired one: novels allow a wider, objective scope of events and a more intimate perspective on character’s inner lives. And while the television series has its merits, I must obstinately and predictably adhere that the books are better. There is a Netflix series based off of the books that shares its title from this first book. Meeting characters for the first time, when the world is fresh, before they committed countless sins and grew into the inevitable, grizzled, blood soaked adults of the later installments. It’s the first installment in his Saxon Stories series, and right now I’m filled with all those pleasant, nostalgic feelings that come from returning to an introductory book. Right now I’m re-reading The Last Kingdom by Bernard Cornwell, and I love it. SISYPHUS ANDREW BIRD SKINThis morning, I reached that deep, internal, bone-quiet that allows me to write when Andrew sheds a weird skin and there’s another, strange, silent one that steps out. Snow still lingers in white patches along roadside hollows, and morning mist cloaks thick where the water gives way to sandy soil and tall stands of pine. Early April however finds most of its stores shuttered and the streets empty prior to noon on Mondays. It’s one of those quiet towns on the Northern Michigan lake shore thrives and bustles with a booming tourist trade during the summer months. I decided to take a short trip to spend a few days with a friend, so this morning I find myself in Elk Rapids.
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