Ah, Books

While away, I was reintroduced to the act of reading. This is when you make your way through a book (usually in its entirety), set it down, pick up another, and make your way through that one. Rinse and repeat.

I read The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen, Ragtime by E.L. Doctorow, On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan, and some of The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton, which I'm still reading (and which is deeply strange). Chesterton seems to have started his adult life as a normal-looking fellow before getting a perm and morphing into some kind of diabolical walrus.

Longer posts on all of these books will follow.