It's nice when the literary stars align so that you finish one book and the next one is right there waving its hand wildly in the air saying, "Pick me! Pick me!" But just as often (probably more often) you finish your book with a satisfied sigh, look up to find the next one, and...nothing. Crickets...crickets... It's a listless feeling, this whole drama of being between books.
The picture above shows the current state of my coffee table. Those piles are the direct result of this Between Books Phenomenon. I've been wandering around my apartment for days, picking up books and then ultimately abandoning them. I imagine the books quietly consoling each other, "Shhh...it's ok. It's just not your time quite yet. She'll be back."
It would help if I knew what I was looking for, but it's an ineffable feeling, isn't it? The last book I read was Origin by Diana Abu-jaber, which was a fairly action packed thriller that had me biting my nails until the very end. Finishing it was a rush of adrenaline and relief. I have a feeling that I need something a little calmer for my next book, but equally gripping. Plus, life has been stressful lately (as it's been for many of us, I think) and I'd like a book that I can escape into for a few hours.
The search continues. I know the right book will ultimately make its way into my hands and until then I just need to be patient. But this business of being between books is a pickle, for sure.
What's the last book that really grabbed you and swept you away?
1 comment:
Perdido Street Station by China Mieville
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