I’m heading down I-95 today to visit my parents for Easter. They live on a glorious farm with lots of space for walking, silence so deep it’s scary for some, and plenty of time to read. So I’m left with the torturous task, as was the case for Eva of The Striped Armchair, of choosing which books to pack. I’m only going for four days, so you would think this wasn’t a big deal. Alas . . .
Here’s my dilemma. I’m in the middle of Dan Kennedy’s hysterical Rock On, so I’m definitely taking that. Then Jerry recommended that I read Sharyn McCrumb for her ghosty Appalachian stories, so I checked one of hers out of the library. So that goes, too. Then, I have the reader’s copy of Sharman Apt Russell’s new book Standing in the Light that I’m dying to finish up. So right there, I”m up to three books for four days. You’d like to think my packing would be done here, but . . .
I keep thinking about how much time I”m going to have to just sit and read, so I keep pondering what else I can fit in. Can I get Neal Pollack’s stuff in? Is there room for Dinty Moore’s new book? I could go on and on, but the fact of the matter is that I’ll be grumpy when I leave there if I expect too much of myself. So, the decision is made – I’m sticking with my three earlier choices (plus, The Writing Life, which I’m finishing up).
Updates on my hours of reading when I get back. Happy Easter,