I'm rarely reading one book at a time. For one thing, every Sunday the New York Times
arrives, and I stop everything until I've made my way through the Magazine, the Arts & Leisure, and the Book Sections (I am occasionally seduced by the Week in Review and Style sections, but life is short; I try to maintain my focus). But for the rest of the week (I can generally read whatever I need to get through in the Chronicle
before I start working) I have books litered about the house. Currently I am reading China Mieville's The Scar
, which I enjoy, but find curiously easy to put down for a day or two. For Christmas I was given a set of miscellaneous history books and am reading one of them, about the celebrated Somerset poisoning case at the court of James I (true crime with farthingales and ruffs! How can I resist?). I carried home a whole bunch of books containing my work from my workshop meeting (the library where we meet gave us their display case for a month, so we could promote the workshop and our own stuff) and found myself re-reading the whole of Starlight 3
(which has a wonderful, sad story by Maureen in it) last night. And here and there I am making my way through a book called Old Sword Days, Old Sword Ways
, about period fencing styles, which is not exactly compelling, but interesting in small doses.
When I really like what I'm reading it tends to insinuate itself into my dreams.