I went out for dinner last night (Temple Grill in Downtown New Haven. Nice place, sit outside if you can) and was talking to the girl I was with about books.
(That’s sort of a go-to conversation for me by the way.)
When she asked what I’ve been reading this summer I rattled off a bunch of books, and ended each description with, “It was really good.”
Since then, I’ve realized it’s not that I enjoy every book I read, I just enjoy reading. Sure, I have my favorite books of all time, but I’ll also suggest whatever I’m reading at the time to anyone else. You’d think, given that I’m a writer myself and read an awful lot, I’d be more picky. But this is not the case.
My new favorite book is generally whatever I just finished reading.
(Bright Lights, Big City currently)
Maybe I’m just easy to please. Maybe I just don’t put enough thought into it. Even in high school I liked most of my assigned reading, and in college even more so. Basically what I’m saying is don’t expect a stellar book recommendation from me, because I like everything. I’ll gladly accept your book recommendations, I’m almost guaranteed to enjoy it, and I need something to read.
(And I really enjoyed dinner last night, too.)
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