I’ve been acquiring a lot of books recently. This is unusual for me, and I blame the temporary homelessness. Books are my portable home. I curl up in them much like a hermit crab wriggles into a shell. When I move into my new place next week, hopefully I’ll go back to being an unapologetic library rat.
About a month ago, I picked up William Wallace Cook’s insane/awesome Plotto: The Master Book of All Plots and Cheryl Strayed’s Wild. I traded Wild for a copy of Strayed’s Tiny Beautiful Things, which a friend got signed for me at the book’s launch party in San Francisco.
I just returned from a trip to Portland. I arrived back to East Coast with six more books than when I had left.
After spending a late night in Powell’s, I emerged with used copies of the following:
- Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned – Wells Tower
- Rendezvous with Rama – Arthur C. Clarke
- The Boy Detective Fails – Joe Meno
My friend then lent me three more books:
- Accelerando – Charles Stross
- Hyperion – Dan Simmons
- Ringworld – Larry Niven
So if you ask me what I’m reading at any time during the next few months, the answer will almost certainly be science fiction or contemporary fiction. But isn’t it always?
I do feel like I should balance out this list with some ladies, though. Jo Walton’s Among Others has been calling my name, as has Edith Pearlman’s short story collection Binocular Vision. I’ve also never read a whole Kelly Link book, which seems like a terrible gap in my reading history. Any other suggestions?