I'm a voracious reader. I read every night for half an hour or more before I go to sleep. I normally wake up once in the middle of the night and read for another fifteen to thirty minutes. And upon awakening, I read another half hour. On good days, I find time during the waking hours to sneak in some more reading. It's not unusual for me to finish a novel or two a week. I prefer fiction, but a good narrative non-fiction is also satisfying.
With all this reading going on, you'd think i'd run out of things I want to read - and sometimes I do, but never for long. I'm usually able to discover a new author, or a new book from a favored author - and dive right in.
Recently I had the opportunity to read a new novel by Dean Bakopoulos, Summerlong - scheduled for release this coming June. It's a desperately sad book, and very funny at the same time. Dean has a knack for making sadness somehow alluring. I wanted all of his sad characters to be my friends. I'd like to have lunch with them. Or a drink. Or a few drinks. And the last two sentences of the book alone made the time I spent reading it worthwhile, not to mention his always savvy command of language and image.
I'm currently devouring Richard Flanagan's The Narrow Road to the Deep North. Flanagan is an acrobat with words and phrases, and a master of meandering through the life of a protagonist weaving past and present into a cohesive tale. He tells a hell of a story.
I recently finished eight books by Peter May - three in his Hebrides series and five in his China series. I like a good mystery/thriller - but only when it is well-written, and Peter is a writer's writer. I liked the first book of his that I read so much that I quickly devoured seven more. I'm currently on a Peter May break, but I will return soon to read his Enzo series.
With all this reading going on, you'd think i'd run out of things I want to read - and sometimes I do, but never for long. I'm usually able to discover a new author, or a new book from a favored author - and dive right in.
Recently I had the opportunity to read a new novel by Dean Bakopoulos, Summerlong - scheduled for release this coming June. It's a desperately sad book, and very funny at the same time. Dean has a knack for making sadness somehow alluring. I wanted all of his sad characters to be my friends. I'd like to have lunch with them. Or a drink. Or a few drinks. And the last two sentences of the book alone made the time I spent reading it worthwhile, not to mention his always savvy command of language and image.
I'm currently devouring Richard Flanagan's The Narrow Road to the Deep North. Flanagan is an acrobat with words and phrases, and a master of meandering through the life of a protagonist weaving past and present into a cohesive tale. He tells a hell of a story.
I recently finished eight books by Peter May - three in his Hebrides series and five in his China series. I like a good mystery/thriller - but only when it is well-written, and Peter is a writer's writer. I liked the first book of his that I read so much that I quickly devoured seven more. I'm currently on a Peter May break, but I will return soon to read his Enzo series.
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