To face a day when one's schedule is completely jammed and search the to-read pile for a book with a giant font, knowing that one will get through the required hundred pages quickly? To be delighted to find the book selected is not good and can be skimmed (certainly through the unappetizing sex scenes)?
I give myself some credit for not picking up Tomas Tranströmer, knowing that poems often have plenty of white space on the page. That usually backfires. I have to read poetry slowly to understand anything. This novel? Yeah, not so much. I won't be mentioning it in my resolution reviews. It's that bad. Nor will I review the one I read before this. Same problem. Fortunately I'm listening to Under the Volcano on audiobook, and the sheer goodness wipes out the weaknesses of others.
In a couple of weeks the Santa Barbara Writers Conference will start, and for the first time is half a year I won't be able to get my hundred pages read per day. Unless I borrow some of my mother's mysteries. Have you seen the font size on some of those suckers? I could get through one hundred pages crossing the hotel lobby.
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