that i always have

a book (books in this case) waiting on the wings so that before I pick up the tablet to search, do a crossword or some other word game, or plop on the couch to veg (ugh), I have another choice. And although I am enjoying reading, a novel

i finished last weekend

left me flummoxed. Perhaps a better word is: disappointed. The ending is quite overused and unclear. After investing so much time in it, I felt jibbed and, to some extent (don’t know why the word persists in my mind), deflated.

on another note:

I went to the library yesterday and got The Body Keeps The Score* (again), plus a non-fiction book about a diplomat, reading a spiritual book, and another book — not sure how to categorize it. Anywho, still, somehow I am hankering for fiction. =| So I will eeny-meeny-miny-moe a novel. Mnnno,

it must jump out at me