Last night I tore through Hiroshi Sakurazaka's All You Need Is Kill. I have not bothered to see Edge of Tomorrow, a movie based on this fine piece of battle armor/combat genre sci-fi, but now definitely I will.
As I enjoy stories in vein of Haldeman's the Forever War or Scalzi's Old Man's War, All You Need Is Kill was suggested as a must read. Keiji Kiriya is a novice 'Jacket' trooper killed in his first engagement against the strange alien Mimics. Somehow his death puts him in a time loop where he must refight the battle over and over. After 158 attempts, Keiji finds an ally and learns the secrets that may enable humanity to survive.
I really liked the starfish-like Mimics and their origin story, I found them some of the best enemies/assailants of humanity I've read recently.
In addition to wearing All The Gear, All The Time, I'm always looking for new tips and tricks to help me keep my motorcycle upright. Lee Parks' Total Control: High Performance Street Riding Techniques is a wonderful addition to my library.
Clear illustrations, diagrams and photos paired with Parks not taking himself very seriously make for one great book.
As a kid I loved Buck Rogers in the 25th Century. What an incredible TV series! TWIKI, Buck, Wilma, Doctor Theopolis and some incredible dance moves (that NBC appears to have taken down from YouTube) grabbed my attention and promised an amazing future for a resilient human race.
In my 20s I discovered Philip Francis Nowlan's Armageddon 2419 A.D.
This is a book about "doin' what comes naturally". Which is to say, sex. But what kind of sex? With whom? And to what purpose? At what point do things like gender expression, sex, reproduction, and child-rearing stop being "normal and natural" and start being something weird that humans do because we are diverse/perverted/sinful/creative (depending on your personal point of view)?
In reality, the word "natural" is mainly how we tell each other which behaviors and traits are the socially correct ones. Calling something natural is often more about specific human cultural standards than it is about what actually happens in nature. Crime Against Nature is artist Gwenn Seemel's attempt to correct that mistake. Filled with gorgeous, Klimt-esque illustrations, Seemel's book shows readers just how diverse nature can be and just how often it fails to conform to our ideas of what is normal — from girls who are bigger and tougher than boys; to boys who give birth; to boys and girls that don't have sex or reproduce at all (and don't seem to mind one bit).
The issues at play here are hefty and potentially uncomfortable, but the book itself is light, playful, and pleasantly un-preachy. It's also set up in a way that allows it to evolve with kids as their reading skills improve — pairing simple statements like "Boys can be the pretty ones" with longer but still easy-to-read paragraphs explaining, for instance, the most recent scientific theories about why male peacocks are so much more colorful than females.
Overall, the book is a great reminder that there are lots of ways to be a girl and lots of ways to be a boy. Nature is chock full of role models for every kid (and every adult). Just because you don't conform to the version of your gender that you see on TV it doesn't mean that you're defective. Last month, my husband and I navigated aisle after aisle of noxiously gendered toys, trying to find things for our niece and nephew that reflected those individual kids, rather than telling them who they were supposed to be and what they were supposed to like. In a world where even Legos come in pink boxes (with instructions for building cute little houses) and blue boxes (with instructions for building race cars), Crime Against Nature is a much-needed breath of fresh air.
You can buy a print version of Crime Against Nature from Gwenn Seemel for $32.
Alternately, you can download the digital version for free (or for a donation of your choice!)