This is like those articles Nick Hornby writes for True Believer where he lists the books he bought each month and then those he actually read. The lists never align. I have this Dawn Powell volume with a lovely strong cover right next to my bed that yesterday I realized was going to be one of those books I will read 'someday' but maybe not tomorrow. Bought--- yet---unread. These are what I am thinking about:
- Born Standing Up by Steve Martin
- Real Food by Michael Pollan
- Beginners Greek by James Collins
- Gentleman and Players by Joanne Harris
- Three Bags Full, a Sheep Detective Story by Leonie Swann (I always think I will like mysteries but never seem to except for cozy ones like Dorothy Sayers and Patricia Moyes. I do remember fondly lying on the hammock in high school a whole summer in Mexico reading an Agatha Christie every day and eating oranges. This is supposed to be about a Sheep who's a Detective. Hmm...maybe this won't be the one that turns me around)
- The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Somebody Selznick
- Diary of an Ordinary Woman by Margaret Forster
- Case of the Missing Books by Ian Sansom (Another wistful entry of a Mystery. I REALLY want to be a genre reader. I think they must be like people who have a religion. Everything all tidy and safe. One after another. Maybe that's why I'm veering into biography lately, you know the ending and you know it doesn't affect you in any way. Although my current bedside holds that massive first volume of the Picasso biography, not sure of the ending in that since it ends midstride.)
- The Diary of Jane Somers by Doris Lessing
- Oh and that book about Barack Obama's father. I don't know the name but am sure Borders will be dispaying it prominently.
- Fair Share for All: a Memoir of Food and Family by John Haney
- Maybe some Trollope again
- Proust (who am I kidding?)
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