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A metaphorical downpour

When it rains, it pours. While we’ve just recently seen something in the way of actual rain around here, the book front seems to have produced a recent downpour.

Some used and discount book purchases here and there occurred about the same time a couple books showed up from publishers and publicists. Perhaps not coincidentally, most of the books fall in the recent international fiction and armchair traveling interests I’ve developed lately — even though I still haven’t finished all the books I brought home from Readercon. The combined result means a seemingly ginormous (now officially a word) growth on the TBR list. And the list doesn’t include three books I’ve placed holds on at the public library. Fortunately, the books I need to read for reviews have September and October street dates, giving me a bit of time on them.

Yet as I “complain” about all the books stacking up, I couldn’t resist looking at the summer reading sale at the New York Review of Books I learned of today via Three Percent. Unless I can maintain my resistance to the “Proceed to checkout” button (I quickly caved to the “Add to Cart” button to see what type of monetary damage I was contemplating), we’re talking five more books going on the TBR list in the near future. That did, however, make it easier to ignore a book club e-mail I read shortly after visiting the NYRB site offering free shipping on orders totaling $35 or more.

The TBR bookcase is in desperate need of expansion, as are the regular bookshelves. As I told my wife last night, I feel like I need to take some time off just to read. As that’s not realistic at this point, beginning tonight I hope to ensconce myself in the recliner under my reading lamp for the weekend.


I have lived so long amongst books I cannot but believe they do have souls.

James Morrow, The Last Witchfinder

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