I tend to go crazy in bookshops. I enter with a reasonable intention of a book to help me tide over the tedium of studying, but the walk back to car involves packages heavier than I thought possible. Here's what I bought though (and for the life of me, I still can't choose among them) Dear Undercover Economist- economic jargon to explain marriage, insurance, and, in short, life. A Short History of Nearly Everything, Bill Bryson- ambition soars high. Something by Richard Feynman, because I've never read him before and I really, really should for the purpose of edification (also, it seemed irresistibly tempting) And, for a light read, a book by Sebastian Faulks. I need some fiction. In addition, my brother bought an Eva Ibbotson and a Christie, which I will doubtless end up reading. Oh yes, I study, too. I have serious suspicions that I wouldn't mind spending my life in a dark room, lined with books going round in spirals, from floor to ceiling. And a window seat to read in. I can't understand why libraries are out to 'remove the mistaken notion that libraries are dark rooms with musty books'. That's exactly why I like them... |
I have three Bryson's, including that one. I keep picking them up with the intention of reading them... I am a waste of resources.
Is the Feynman one 'Surely you are Joking/Kidding Mr. Feynman'?
Why does Eva ring a bell? Is it something we saw at the Scholastic Book Fair?
I am getting used to reading books on the laptop. Life is cruel.
And, finally, next time you go into one of your lapses of not blogging, warn me.