I love reading, and committed to doing more of it last New Year’s Eve (as part of my self-care). My peak was when on vacation in Wisconsin last fall; I managed to read 12 books in 9 days. It was heavenly. I don’t do kindle. I need paper texture, smell, notes from previous readers in the margin—and possibly coffee cup stains!
I just finished reading Into the Water by Paula Hawkins. Great stories about generations of disappearing women in a small town that was known for witch drowning in the 1800s. It was gripping and filled with great characters.
Here is why I am writing—the last sentence of the book irrevocably changed every premise to that point. I soooo dislike it when authors do that! Unlike a cliffhanger concept at the end of a chapter, you have finished the story and are left on a cliff hanging—with no prospect of “the rest of the story” as Paul Harvey would have said. (Yes—I am that old.)
Then I read The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton, a fantastical story which merely ended for the sake of ending. All the story lines were wrapped up in tidy, if muddy, bows!
Went to the library for new material this morning. I plan on reading my new books while sitting on the glider on the patio overlooking the beach. Yeah, summer—and yeah to literature.