Too Damned Much to Read

But I'm not complaining. I like it. It's just overwhelming sometimes. This is what happens when you really enjoy reading.

I just finished Ender's Game, at long last. Good book, a little sluggish near the middle of it, but very thought-provoking. Maybe the sequels are actually good, but I tend to think that this story is grander all by itself. Continuing the saga of Ender Wiggin feels like it would cheapen this story. Still, I'll not judge.

I also just started reading a book called The Historian, which so far looks like a cool mix of history and old books and research and travel: a sheltered, teenaged girl discovers that her father, a diplomat who travels all the time to faraway, exotic lands, once uncovered some kind of family connection to the famous historical figure Vlad Tepes—aka, Dracula. The character setup is sort of like Lara Croft, only without the balatant sexism and probably without the action-adventure. This book is an advanced copy (it really comes out in June) that Marisa got from work and her manager is wondering if it's any good, worth getting many copies of or not. My task is to merely give my opinion.

I've got two novels on my must-be-read-soon list (Venom's Kiss and Resurrection) merely because I'm antsy to get to them, and I'm also reading a printed out copy of a friend's story.

I'm loving it all...but life doesn't like to leave a lot of time for reading. I long for a big comfy, high-backed chair in front of a fireplace, rain outside the window, and a pipe. I wouldn't smoke it, of course, but it would complete the scene! And oh yeah, a completely free weekend.