I have a bushel of books, but I had a run of finishes this week, which is making me feel better about January. Jenny McCarthy's autism memoir was a quick read, and not bad (though not spectacular). Then there was Shannon Hale's Book of a Thousand Days, and I think she's officially one of my new favorite authors. It was a young adult book, on the younger teen end of the range, in that it not only has a fairy tale plot, but a fairy tale structure. But I just loved it--I loved Dashti's experience working in the kitchen and fighting off rats and her cat, and just everything. The best stories are the one that make mundanities seem fascinating.
This is what appeals about Megan McCafferty's books, and Fourth Comings, while more serious and somewhat grimmer than the others, is just as satisfying. Her fast-talking, painfully young teen angst is exactly right, and so satisfying in a deeply horrible way.
The schoolwork will start rolling in this weekend and my real reading time will be harshly cut into. But for now, I'm going to blow through what I can in time. I'm on my way out the door, with Goose Girl by Shannon Hale in my bag and Maisie Dobbs waiting for the finish on my bedside table. Life, for this moment, is pretty sweet.
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