Time Passed

It's been awhile since I've written and so I'm feeling the need to get back into it. I've been busy doing a little of this and a little of that, and so I'm back to my normal mischief.

I can't stop thinking about this book that I read recently, and about the new book I'm currently reading. It's hard to separate the love from both of them, and to keep the two separate, but reading what I call a "real" piece of literature makes it seem like some of the other things I've read seem so trivial. And, with that said, I have a hard time getting into my self-imposed books of real literature after reading frivolity. I love both, but I have a hard time separating between the book that takes me awhile to get into and the book that I can immediately feel as if I'm personally in the story. Some writers can get me in their story on the first page, and others take a bit longer. Then, there are the stories that I should read, the ones that I really want to read, that are considered great literature by a great many people, and mostly, I find those hard to get into...because...well, I'm not sure. Maybe I put so much pressure on myself to love them or that I "have" to read them, that it feels like such work instead of something I should enjoy. It's not leisure then, it's work.

Not sure where to leave those thoughts but, my reading list for the next couple of months (if not longer) includes:

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
Law School Confidential (Miller)
Writings on an Ethical Life (Peter Singer)
Grace (Eventually), thoughts on Faith (Anne Lamott)
Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
The Sun Also Rises (Hemingway)
...and various other Grisham novels if I get the chance.

Just something I've been thinking about.