PLR, that's right, out the freaking window. I had come to the conclusion that I could work two library books at the same time as a book that I own. But I was not enjoying The Magicians, and so I decided to return it and get something different. And this is where it all spiraled out of control.
Well, first of all, I'm not even sure comics should count. But the next Fables book was definitely something I've been wanting to read, so I grabbed that, and also The Truth-Teller's Tale, by Sharon Shinn, which I have almost inexplicably been panting after for months, mostly because it seems as close as I'm going to come to getting to read The Safe-Keeper's Secret for the first time again. That tells you something about how that book has stuck with me--again, pretty inexplicably--it's a very small, domestic book.
But anyway, those, plus The Mysterious Benedict Society seemed like enough. But then I saw the Flight anthologies on the comics shelf, and if you haven't seen these, they're charming. Each one is just a collection of short comics, loosely based on the theme of flight, and they're exactly the kind of venue for short, simple comic book storytelling that I'm pleased to see. So I got one of those, and I might have to ask for another one for my birthday sometime.
But I'd been thinking, after my wrap-up last year, that I've been reading too much YA, letting myself slide into the easy place of fantasy for a lot time. It occurs to me to kind of forgive myself for that, since finding time to read at all with the baby is pretty impressive, and finding time to read impressive things would be impossible. But I wanted to get a Grown Up book to replace The Magicians. The one I wanted, The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, was checked out--or so I thought. But the children's room librarians were chatting about it as I watched Adam sprint back and forth between the picture books, and suddenly I was talking to them, and one of them ran upstairs and found me the speed-read copy and here I am, with more books than I can carry.
I'm still reading and loving Candy Freak from my personal shelf, and I still intend to read one of my own books at any given time. But my good intentions--gone. Poof. Kaput.
Up next: why I'm not enjoying The Magicians.