Books, books, books

Erm. I think I set a resolution to read a book a week this year because I may have only read ten or so books for fun in the past five years of my dissertating life. This is week eleven, I think, of the year and...well, no. I have not read eleven books this year.

For those of you dying to know, I've read:

The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald (still don't like it, but can't wait for the movie)
Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, Anne Lamott (my lifesaver)
Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity, David Allan (another lifesaver)
The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott, Kelly O'Connor McNees
I Loved, I Lost, I Made Spaghetti, Giulia Melucci
The Lady of the Rivers, Philippa Gregory

I couldn't bring myself to read The Tipping Point, so I read a fictional romance about Louisa May Alcott, who I love. It was delightful. I wanted it to be true. The spaghetti book I could have lived without, but it did have recipes, which is nice. Still, the author was obnoxiously pretentious at times, completely overshadowing the genuine tone of her occasional heartbreak.

Needless to say, I am quite behind. Five books behind to be exact. I should get back to that. When I was reading, I was managing a much better work-life balance, I think. I got a lot done, but I was not just working.

Being sick for over a week now, I have started reading again just a little bit because it's all that I've been able to manage, but I'm cheating a little bit. Don't judge; I'm sick. I read the Philippa Gregory book because, well, I love her. Her books normally feed me the history that I love with an imagination, too, and this book didn't disappoint. Don't get me wrong - it was nowhere near as all-consuming as The Other Boleyn Girl, but I didn't expect that. Even as many times as I've reread that book, I still can't put it down. Anyway, after The Lady of the Rivers, I needed a comfort book. My dad bought me a new copy (with a lovely pink and green cover!) of Pride and Prejudice for Christmas. I used to read it every year, sometimes more than once a year, but when I moved to San Diego, I lost my copy, so I haven't read it in almost seven years. My Mr. Darcy fixes have had to come from the BBC movie, which is more than fine (I mean, really, who doesn't want to see Colin Firth post swim), but I needed to read Darcy again and it's been glorious, particularly because I now read the characters' lines with the actors' voices in my head and it makes me laugh.

Maybe I'll read The Tipping Point after this. Maybe not. I'm just glad to be reading again.