Sorry. Sorry. It’s not like the new job is kicking my butt or anything, but now that I spend all day focused on the full-time gig, I hardly have the desire or the ability to string a sentence together once I’m home. Or is that the definition of having your butt kicked? Not sure.
Jury duty tomorrow. I’m all for civic duty, but couldn’t they have set me up with the court I pass on my way to work? Or the one that I went to last time? No? How about the one deep on the south side, which I’ll have to pass through downtown to get to? Yeah, how about THAT ONE.
I’ve been reading a bit, though. So that’s good news.
58. The Ladies’ No. 1 Detective Agency– Alexander McCall Smith
So if a woman had written this, it would have had a pink cover and nobody would have paid it any attention. Sorry–I do this a lot, I know, but it bears repeating: When a woman writes a book, she has to apologize for it being light and enjoyable. They have to apologize for it being for women. But AMC can write whatever the hell he wants, write a woman character (he’s a man), and black African character (he’s white)—and not have to apologize for it. He doesn’t have to apologize because he’s too busy cashing checks. I liked this book, although I had to get over the hump of the second or third chapter when, for no reason I can quite discern, the point of view shifts to the main character’s father who is, in a word, dead. And who the hell cares, since he’s dead and doesn’t show up again? Maybe it’s an African trait of storytelling I don’t know about (very possible), but it bothered me. Once I was over that hump, it was very good.
59. American Fuji– Sara Backer
This one was pretty good. If you like chick lit but are afraid of the pink covers (or don’t care either way) this book is fun, enjoyable, only a little bit of a downer in a couple of places. What I don’t get is why it doesn’t have a pink cover. Why do some books get called chick lit and others don’t, when the line is very hazy indeed? This book is good, and it lives on that line.
60. Prayer for the Dying– Stewart O’Nan
Really beautifully done and a little skin-crawly near the end there, but I didn’t love it as much as I loved Last Night at the Lobster, same author. O’Nan really has a way with the short novel, though. Both these novels are brief but really powerful. This one is historical fiction, based on a real episode if I’m reading the front matter correctly. A little too much about faith for me to dig in deep, but overall really lovely and horrifying at the same time. Not bad work.