the accidental reader

It is only recently that I have really rediscovered the joy of reading. I have heard that there are those who can read and knit at the same time but I am, alas, not among them. Before the arrival of baby bear I had a reading schedule, so to speak. I would read a good book, often a classic, followed by a crime fiction, followed by a good book of the modern/current variety, followed by a crime fiction, followed by a good book and so on and so forth. With the odd bit of literary fluff thrown in for good measure. Now I just grab ten minutes where I can to read anything that I can lay my hands on.

Really, my schedule was just a way of rationing my crime fiction intake because while there are plenty of good books out there, there are only so many Rebus novels. And now I have read them all. I won't add to the many reviews already available except to say that I enjoyed it and was satisfied with the ambiguity of the ending.

I have also caught up on some childhood reading - Help! I'm a Prisoner in the Library! - and Barbara Biggs' The Accidental Renovator: a Paris story. I was a bit disappointed with this one. It's just one outrageous disaster after another but lacks the depth of her two previous memoirs - In Moral Danger and The Road Home - which tell the amazing story of her earlier life, the sexual abuse that she survived as a girl and its profound repercussions for decades to follow. Possibly because it is set over a shorter period of time and for the most part addresses a much lighter topic, it lacks the narrative force and emotional development present in the earlier two books. Rather, emotionally speaking, there is a sense of smugness and complacency. I was also very disappointed with the quality of the publishing - there are glaring spelling mistakes and grammatical errors throughout - which for me detract from the reading pleasure.

Which brings me to some local news - I think that I may have found Josies' missing apostrophe (see left). Oops, no - lost it again (see right).