June 5, 2020

Why Sometimes I Don’t Read

Our Jen was—along with (in our unscientific opinion) approximately half the population of the Lymes—sick last week.  We’re so glad to learn that she’s now recovered and here she is back again for your delight with the revealing (and riveting) antithesis to her earlier column on why she reads.

Here is the companion piece to the ever-popular,” Why I Read.”  It is fair to say that many, many people ask me how I have the time and mental where-with-all to read two books a week and review them for your entertainment.  I say I don’t know.  It just fits in somehow.  Like extra piles into the washer.  It’s a mystery, but it works.

Until it doesn’t.  Sometimes, even your fearless book reviewer just can not bring herself to pick one up.  Sometimes she reads some she hates and doesn’t want to review them (sparing you loads of whining.)  Sometimes she lies in the tub and reads Danielle Steele and is embarrassed to review them.  When all these happenings converge you get a perfect vacuum of book reviews.  I know this is momentously hard to overcome for many of you and I apologize for selfishly sapping your will to live but it can not be helped.

To bring some small bit of happiness to you I will tell you the whole unadulterated truth.  I read Margaret Atwood’s newest book, “The Year of The Flood” and disliked it.  It was as depressing as “Oryx and Crake” and it sapped my will to live.  Then I read “House” by Danielle Steele.  That was OK.  Then I read “Kaleidoscope.”  That was too much Danielle Steele for me.  Back-to-back unreality, happy ending and endless cash is too depressing.

Then I started “Crow Planet,” which will be good but made feel bad about the planet going to hell in a hand-basket because I won’t drive a Prius.  So I read “Snow White and The Seven Dwarves,” the original, written and mesmerizingly illustrated by Wanda Ga’g in the 30s.  I also did many crossword puzzles from New York Magazine and read People. And Clifford’s Halloween.”

I felt much better so I picked up “Swimming with Piranhas at Feeding Time; My Life Doing Dumb Stuff with Animals” by Richard Coniff.  I am only on chapter three and I love it.  He is clever, humorous and brave.  I will review this next week when I finish.

I have today off so I am going to read a new as yet unpublished book that the author handed me yesterday.  I can’t tell you who or what, but stick around … I will.

I thought it only fair to divulge all, so there you have it.


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