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Winding Down the Month

I’m on a pretty good run with my reading lately. Finished three books in February, three so far in March, and hopefully I’ll get deep enough into one more this weekend to knock out a fourth by mid-week. 

One might argue I’ve been reading fluffy books—some mystery/thrillers, a couple of YA novels—but there’ve been some heavy doses in there, too.  Neither Columbine nor The Devil in the White City, would I categorize as light. More importantly, I’m a firm believer that they all count. What one reads matters far less than that one reads.

(On a less self-congratulatory note, I’ve been neglecting my magazines too much lately. I’ve got a backlog of both The New Yorker and The Believer, not to mention Bicycling, with some articles and stories I’ve already flagged to read.)

All this reading has left me even slimmer than usual on the writing front, but the itch is definitely there. Besides, here I am, now, writing about reading. Speaking of which, I’m headed back to it now. I just got home from the store with The Child in Time and The Girl Who Played With Fire in hand. It’s been too long since I’ve read a McEwan novel, and I’m eagerly anticipating the release of Solar, so I believe it’s his that I’ll tackle next. I’m told that I should be able to finish it before the end of the month. Besides, I recently found Saturday on my mother’s bookshelf and insisted she put it (and Markus Zusak’s brilliant The Book Thief) immediately at the top of her pile of books-to-be-read.

I have some thoughts on both The Ghost and The Graveyard Book, and I intend to post them before I get too deep into the next novel. Maybe later tonight. But for now—after distractions for coffee, book-buying, dog-walking, bike-riding, and grocery-shopping—I’m here in my reading chair ready to dive into the next one.

Breathless

Impressions of Columbine

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