For one reason or another (often one reason after another, with the occasional “many reasons at once”) I haven’t been reading much during these past couple of months.
Most of what I have read has been partial re-reading of favorite books–a chapter here, a passage there. Of the handful of new-to-me books that I have managed to read (Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth, Shiloh Walker’s Candy Houses, Nalini Singh’s Blaze of Memory, and Bronwyn Parry’s Dark Country just now **), I have not managed to produce one single, solitary review.
Considering that reading is my most enduring vice and that I honestly, truly and completely enjoy writing reviews, these two things alone should tell you just how stressed out I’ve been lately.
The really good news is that a major source of stress and frustration in my life has just gone “bye bye” and henceforth only relatively minor ones remain.
So brace yourselves, people, it’s likely I’ll be back in full force soon, to drown you in opinions, reviews and assorted commentary.
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Aren’t you all just ecstatic over this news? 😀
**[as luck would have it, all of these have been really good reads, by the way–one would think that would have broken the slump like nothing else, wouldn’t one? Pity it didn’t have that effect…]
Her Hands, My Hands 