Dresden

I've enjoyed the Harry Dresden novels (and a couple of short stories) by Jim Butcher quite a bit. (I do wish he'd get back to them and stop futzing around with other universes; he promised us an *ending* that should be only a few volumes away.)

One thing in particular I've liked is the alternating power of the Winter and Summer Courts, and the revelation of Winter's true role. But... my Willing Suspension of Disbelief on this point keeps getting put under stress. *The world is round and axially tilted.* Northern winter is southern summer, and that puts Butcher's whole scheme awry.

It's not as bad as some of, e.g., Rowling's solecisms, but the issue is more central to the series, and the flaw is therefore more irritating.

Sometimes They Listen

A couple of weeks ago, at the end of one lecture, after most of the students had left, one student burst out, "How can I take notes in this class? You talk fast, and by the time I've written down what you wrote on the board, you're off on something else!" Two other students were still there and sort of gravitated toward us. I made the usual suggestions - sharing notes with another student, putting together a study group (although sometime before week thirteen of a fifteen-week class might have been better), and so forth. He was still upset ("I'm already in study groups in three other classes!"), but the other students offered to help. I had to leave, but they were still talking.

This afternoon, I got an e-mail from one of them. They have, indeed, formed a study group, and wanted suggestions for practice exercises. I can't give them that until Monday - I don't bring the book home - but will do so ASAP.

It heartens me that they followed my advice. I have to admit that going too fast is one of my perennial faults, and I'd gotten signals from that first student that he was having trouble; I should have thought about how to help him earlier in the semester. But maybe all will be well that ends well.