Read Between the Lines

I am, at the moment, between books and quite honestly, I feel a little naked.

You could say I read a lot. Probably four or five books a month (although the behemoth "Pillars Of The Earth" took almost a month itself). And I'm not one of those people who can read several things at the same time. A book is like a nice, hot bubble bath. You wouldn't put the shower on as well. I like to fully immerse myself in one read at a time.

I'm a little obsessive-compulsive, er, thorough when it comes to what I read too. I'll consume as much as I can on a certain subject (art -- "Michelangelo and the Pope's Ceiling," "Strapless: John Singer Sargent and the Fall of Madam X;" Mormons -- "The Poet and the Murderer," "The Biography of Joseph Smith" "Shattered Dreams," "Under the Banner of Heaven") or by a particular author (Margaret Atwood, Elmore Leonard, Jon Krakauer).

Sometimes I'll pick up those "shoulda" books -- classics we shoulda read in high school or college ("The Iliad," "The Odyssey," "The House of Seven Gables").

When I start to feel a little soft in the head, I go non-fiction ("The Beak of the Finch: The Story of Evolution in Our Time," "The Peabody Sisters: Three Women who Ignited Romanticism"). And when it's time for a mindless escape, Anita Shreve has been popping up a lot lately.

Some might call it escapism. I prefer "quest for knowledge." It also helps me get to sleep at night.

But I just finished "Here If You Need Me," by Kate Braestrup, and the two titles I have on hold at the library haven't come in yet. So here I am, caught with my dustcover down.

It's almost time for Harry Potter again, from the beginning and consecutively, but not quite yet. And sadly, there's nothing in the pile of 14 books next to my bed that really interests me at the moment.

In need of some sort of mental fig leaf, tonight I'm going to give "The Last Expedition" a shot. And hope the library calls soon to say my books are in.