I have of late (as in since Saturday) been channeling procrastination energy into reading. I was moderately horrified to realize that I have no less than 49 (I suppose now 48?) unread books of fiction on my bookshelf. At college. Not counting the ones at home. Apparently I have been retail therapying at Borders a bit more than I realized. . . 18 of these were acquired this school year.
In the last few days, I have finished How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, The Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro (now very curious to see the movie of the same name with Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson), and The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman.
I would say the overall effect is to make me pleasantly mad with possibilities. . .
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