…and it’s called Amazon.
As in the website, not the South American jungle. But it’s just as deadly. It seems that whenever I hear someone talking about a book, I have to order it on Amazon. And then 5 other books that look interesting as well.
This is what came today:
This is bad. My summer of reading is coming to a close. Where will I find the time to read? I mean, I have work to do. Or I will, very soon. And it’ll just be torture to look at all these tempting books and NOT have the time to read them.
I realize, however, that I have read an almost ridiculous amount of books this summer. I know for sure because my mom keeps a reading journal where she records the books she’s read, the dates when she’s finished them, and then if she liked the book or not. I found this out this summer and decided that I would employ this method as well. I figured it would help me remember what I like and when I read a book (instead of my usual: Ya, it was good. I think I read it last year. No the year before. Wait, maybe I didn’t read that.).
Behold my summer reading list (I didn’t date. I just compiled it all under summer):
Tobias Wolff, This Boy’s Life
Sara Gruen, Water for Elephants
Mary Gordon, Spending
Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain
Kate Walbert, A Short History of Women
Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre
Jessica Maxwell, Roll Around Heaven
James Joyce, The Dubliners
Sebastian Faulks, A Week in December
Lionel Shriver, The Post-Birthday World
Bill Bryson, The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid
Anita Diamant, The Red Tent
Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love
Daisy Hay, Young Romantics
Jhumpu Lahiri, The Interpreter of Maladies
John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz
Elizabeth Gilbert, Committed
Kazuo Ishiguro, The Remains of the Day
Christopher McDougall, Born to Run
Firan Desai, The Inheritance of Loss
Stieg Larsson, The Girl with the Dragoon Tattoo
Stieg Larsson, The Girl who Played with Fire
That’s a grand total of 23 books! I can’t remember the last time I read so much. But the thing is, I had this nightly routine where I put Luke to bed, crawled in next to him, and read every night until around 11p.m. I seriously didn’t watch any T.V. And I didn’t have anything else to do this summer. In fact, this reading list kind of proves why I didn’t have anything else to do this summer. And clearly why I’m not dating.
But the thing is I liked almost all these books (my two least favorites: The Red Tent and The Art of Racing in the Rain [sorry Jen]). And if I had to give just a few awards, I’d say:
Winner of best language with the added bonus of being totally depressing yet very real: The Interpreter of Maladies
Winner of the most interesting for non-fiction: Born to Run
Winner of the best sex scenes: Spending
Winner of totally addicting and yet totally trashy: Stieg Larrson’s trilogy (of which I’m going to get the third and final installment tonight. Even though I shouldn’t. But I can’t stop. I really, really can’t.)
Anyway, I’ve got to lay off amazon for a while and make it my goal to finish all these books by next summer. I also have to stop wandering around aimlessly in bookstores. But in the long run, I’m pretty thankful with how I spent my summer. This is, I’m sure, a much better addiction than, say, heroin. Though perhaps not any less expensive.