I am a flippant reader. As soon as I read about a book that intrigues me, I MUST READ IT RIGHT NOW. This leads to lots of piles. Of books in various stages of readedness. If a book grips me enough not to read anything else along with it, that’s a GOOD THING. I usually have several books on the go. A day book, a night book, a car book. Day books happen on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Audiobooks happen on…
On Monday, I finished Where’d You Go Bernadette, which was my 43rd book of the year and my 701st listed on Goodreads. And it really needs a question mark at the end. Because questions without question marks annoy me. As well as a grammatically incorrect title, it was the first hardcover book I’ve read in a while. I read it naked. Smooth and unadorned. The book, not me. I find book jackets flappy and useless, and lose them quickly. On…
I’ve read 31 books this year. And started countless others. Recent complete reads have been: The Magicians – To me, this is Harry Potter on speed mixed with The Never-Ending Story. Maybe that’s just me. But it did end. And now I have to read the sequel. Damn. 13 Little Blue Envelopes – Because I too traipsed around Europe as a young person. And I have an Aunt who passed away, who kind of guides me through life. There aren’t…
