I’m a slow reader, and I don’t mind saying so.
I spent the better part of a month recently reading Bob Spitz’s biography The Beatles — and I took my sweet time getting around to reading that, too, seeing as how it came out in 2005 and I’d been meaning to get to it ever since.
But as soon as I finished Spitz’s book, Anne Ursu’s Breadcrumbs became available from the Austin Public Library, and I dove right in. (Considering I’d been seventh in line just a couple of days before, I suspect a well-warranted acquisition of several additional copies.) I’m still at it, but before I’d gotten far into that one, Tom Perrotta’s The Leftovers came home with me, where it joined Talking to Girls About Duran Duran and The Gifts of Imperfection on my to-read list.
So, today, while my sons were accumulating around 45 books between them at the Central library, did I really need to add to the pile with Words in the Dust, Water Balloon, A Monster Calls, or One Day and One Amazing Morning on Orange Street?
Nope. Sure didn’t, even though I know I’ll — once again — be pushing the renewal limits to their, um, limits in order to finish them all. Apparently I’m not only a slow reader, but a slow learner, too.
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