Failed Renaissance

Sigh. I really meant, on returning all those library books today, to seize the moment and read some of my own books. Alas, it is not to be. And not because I was distracted and surprised by things on the shelves (or, not entirely so), but because I was so excited to go to the library that I immediately went through my list of books to read and found all the ones that were in stock at Malden.

So, after I finish Hogfather by Terry Pratchett (at least that one is PLR--it's Mike's copy) and The Explosionist by Jenny Davidson, I have five new books to read. One is a religious memoir, for which I'm a sucker, and one is a collection of short retellings of stories from English history (because God help me, I don't have it in me to read a whole nonfiction book about Oliver Cromwell). Then Ever, by Gail Carson Levine, whose Fairest I just finished and really liked. And something by Ursula Leguin that was, unsurprisingly, near it on the shelf. And The Buffalo Soldier, by Chris Bohjalian, which is, sadly, the last of his books that I think I want to read.

I blame this on The Double Bind, which I couldn't get into, so I read spoilers for it, and I'm glad I didn't read it and a bit nervous of his new stuff. Then he did a Holocaust book, which might or might not be good.

At home, I have something called World Without End waiting for me--high fantasy that Brenda highly recommends. Also Neil Gaiman's American Gods, and Children of God (do you see a theme in these titles? It's an accident, I swear), the sequel to The Sparrow, by Mary Doria Russell. Plus I have a new Gaiman book that I got for Christmas.

In December, so far, I've read five books, and I think that's all it'll be. Not bad; below my average, but you know, new baby. I cut me some slack.

So, onward! I'll report back soon.