I have been finding it difficult to concentrate on reading lately. Partly this is due to my eyes bothering me--"floaters" make it look like little bugs are flittering over the pages. This also makes it hard to clean as I scrub away at spots that are not there or I leave actual spatters untouched. Eating...well one would think I'd be losing those pesky ten pounds what with the little critters crawling on my plate and in my glass. I do wish that was working. We'll see what the eye doctor has to say later this week.
So for not being so focused, picking up The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski was a curious choice. (The librarian's comment was, "You haven't read that yet?") I got through it, but I can't say I am better off for the experience. Vesna, a woman in the writers group at the library, often says my writing reveals my slavic heritage so maybe I should have liked it more. Or maybe I need to work on lightening up my writing style.
I also read Alison Hoover Bartlett's The Man Who Loved Books Too Much, which I passed onto my husband. He understands that collecting, buying, selling world so he probably got more out of it than I did. It was interesting, based on real people, but I've run out of patience and sympathy for people who feel overly entitled.
I just finished Confederates in the Attic by Tony Horwitz. I thought it was well written--if a little scary and a little sad. Okay, a lot scary and a lot sad. Now I have both his A Voyage Long and Strange and Blue Latitudes on my reading pile. Mike's efforts to get me a little more literate about history seem to be paying off.
Finally, I read Traveling with Pomegranates, which was perspectives on a trip to Greece and a trip to France by Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor. It was fascinating to me on so many levels--the mother-daughter relationship, the travel, the historical aspects, the mythological/spiritual journey, the adjustments to changing life stages.
Maybe it's not just my eyes. I've been reading a lot of nonfiction. I haven't read the last Janet Evaonovich--maybe I'll go out and get that for my next read.
So for not being so focused, picking up The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski was a curious choice. (The librarian's comment was, "You haven't read that yet?") I got through it, but I can't say I am better off for the experience. Vesna, a woman in the writers group at the library, often says my writing reveals my slavic heritage so maybe I should have liked it more. Or maybe I need to work on lightening up my writing style.
I also read Alison Hoover Bartlett's The Man Who Loved Books Too Much, which I passed onto my husband. He understands that collecting, buying, selling world so he probably got more out of it than I did. It was interesting, based on real people, but I've run out of patience and sympathy for people who feel overly entitled.
I just finished Confederates in the Attic by Tony Horwitz. I thought it was well written--if a little scary and a little sad. Okay, a lot scary and a lot sad. Now I have both his A Voyage Long and Strange and Blue Latitudes on my reading pile. Mike's efforts to get me a little more literate about history seem to be paying off.
Finally, I read Traveling with Pomegranates, which was perspectives on a trip to Greece and a trip to France by Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor. It was fascinating to me on so many levels--the mother-daughter relationship, the travel, the historical aspects, the mythological/spiritual journey, the adjustments to changing life stages.
Maybe it's not just my eyes. I've been reading a lot of nonfiction. I haven't read the last Janet Evaonovich--maybe I'll go out and get that for my next read.
Try reading little at a time.
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