I’m reading a new book today* and getting lost in it, in the sticky sweet remembrances of a different life than I’ll ever have, in the muddles and triumphs of not-mine and the descriptions of things that make half-remembered pictures form in my head.
While I’m loving this author’s prose, I’m also wary – I read a lot of books, and I’m so burned out on some situations that my teeth hurt and I can’t help thinking I know this when the story tilts in that direction.
One common theme seems to be poor girl growing up in the south. (Or the swamps, or in New England, but all hard-scrabble and abjectly-no-hope-of-getting-out poor.)
The other? Hard-boiled glitzy woman turned detective. (And wow, is that market getting huge.)
So what am I reading now? A lot of non-fiction, some juvenile fiction (Cass and I just started the Lemony Snicket series, woot, and holy crap can that kid read!) and a lot of cookbooks – the part of me that wants to be informed and well-fed with winter coming closer dipping to the forefront.
I’m sure soon I’ll be back to bestsellers, but right now? I’d rather read about soup.
*Unravelling, by Elizabeth Graver (so far, great, eloquent writing about a dirt poor woman that lives in the bogs somewhere. Requisite odd siblings and stern father included. Just got to the (expected) sexual awakening part.)