When the going gets tough I turn to either something I've read before or to genre fiction. I remember one long summer in Mexico lying in the hammock in my cream colored caftan near the pool eating oranges and Maria biscuits and reading an
Agatha Christie a day. Since it is summer I decided to recreate the experience---oh well at least the Agatha Christie part of it and I have been reading Agatha Christie and
Patricia Moyes, who I tend to like a little better, at a pretty much one-a-day rate. I may have already read them but can never tell the difference and they just wash over me until the end and then I can pick up the next one.
What I'm saying here is: don't expect me to read
Buddenbrooks this summer vacation.
