Monday, March 2, 2009
The oddest thing keeps happening to me in this year of reading my own books. Usually, I read one book at a time, but occasionally when I begin a nonfiction book and it is quite large and mentally stimulating, I read it downstairs and begin a second (usually lighter in weight and subject matter) book for bedtime reading. But I have found myself so enthralled with my upstairs fiction book that I quit the downstairs book, and continue with just the one. I've read a lot of nonfiction over the years, but now it seems I'm just a fiction girl all the way. Well, there was Laurie Colwin's book, and Virginia Woolf's little one, but other than them, out of thirteen books, eleven have been fiction. I think I'm going to listen to this inner reading voice, and not even pick up any nonfiction for a while.