I have a problem with reading: I cannot stick to just one book. The other night, reading in bed, my wife asked, “What are you reading? Did you finish the other book?” No, I think to myself. No, I haven’t, damn my weak will. “Oh, I’m just sort of dipping in and out,” I responded.…
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That (below) is a picture of a sliver of one bookshelf. I think my bookshelves both excite and frighten me in equal measure. You might care to throw some curiosity into the recipe and a dash of love. I do love books. No doubt about it. People take holidays, I buy books. I would much…
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Heck, today is just going to have to be one of those days when I simply type something out for the sake of typing. That isn’t to say that I might not turn this into something with a little more purpose and value. However, to do that certainly normally requires that I have some measure…
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My approach to reading bothers me. I’m not certain whether it amounts to a lack of focus, a sense of boredom (upon a single topic) or the over-excited edge of wanting to read everything and now. I can’t simply read one book. I apparently have to read ten at the same time. And that’s just…
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Reading about Sir Francis Walsingham and the shadowy war of espionage and counter-intelligence in the Court of Queen Elizabeth has been entertaining me on multiple levels. I’m covering several bases here – which is nice. Firstly, it’s my period of choice. I never consciously made a decision to solely focus on one period, but somehow…
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I impressed myself this year. I read 28 books. Yes, some were a little short, but some were quite long. I also abortively started some, like Will Self’s short stories, and only got halfway… that more than a 100 pages uncatalogued against my target. Time spent, time lost. With two days of 2011 to go…
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