Oh dear, I’m quite certain you’ve all given me up for dead, but I’m very much alive. It’s just that I’ve been terribly busy gestating and entertaining a two-year-old. You know how it goes.
I’ve not stopped reading, at least. Let me tell you a little of what I’ve been up to during my long radio silence.
- Room by Emma Donoghue
- Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
- The Lazarus Project by Aleksandar Hemon
- Stories from the Blue Moon Cafe edited by Sonny Brewer
- Dear American Airlines by Jonathan Miles
- Moving to Higher Ground: How Jazz Can Change Your Life by Wynton Marsalis
Some of these books I enjoyed quite a lot and one or two not so much. I’ll fill you in on the pertinent details in upcoming posts.
And so, since I’ve missed it all, I hope you had a lovely Columbus Day, Halloween, Reformation Day, and All Saints Day. Holla.
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November 3rd, 2011 at 3:06 am
Dear Jess, thank heavens you’re back. While you’ve been gone I’ve had to resort to British newspapers and strange kindle books with bad grammar. I need a literary guide!
I’m a bit disillusioned with WordPress. There’s a gawdy flashing ad on your blog that’s telling me I’m the 100,000th visitor of the day and I should claim my winnings.
What is this? A literary lottery?
I know it’s tough bringing up a two-year-old. You’ve done well to read any books at all. But Les Miserables! That’s a big one. Did you skip any of it?
November 3rd, 2011 at 3:07 am
Oh the ad has gone now. Phew! It made my eyes go funny.
November 4th, 2011 at 3:42 pm
I’m sorry to have abandoned you to such pap. And yes, dear Lord, I skipped large swaths of Les Mis. It’s a shame because those mini essays that I did read were wonderful (I remember the battle of Waterloo and the one about argot being particularly good), but I just wanted to know what happened to Valjean and Cosette! I couldn’t stand the suspense.
November 9th, 2011 at 10:13 pm
Pap? The Guardian, The Independent and The Daily Telegraph? They’re not that bad.
I’m relieved you did some skipping. Otherwise I would have sunk even lower in my own eyes. I could never even contemplate a book of that length let alone read it.