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Thursday, August 21st, 2008
I seem to be going through one of my periodical unable to settle with a book phases. I have a large number of books on my reading list and at least three on the go at the moment – though I think that I may have run out of steam with Kate Fox’ Watching the English about two thirds of the way through. What seemed funny and informative at the beginning now seems drab and repetitive. Back to the shelf with that one, I think.
Somewhere in the living room – on the shelf near my chair, I think – I have the half-read Eleanor of Aquitaine by Allison Weir. Considering the lengths I went to to get it (I seem to have purchased it between print or distribution runs), I really ought to plough on with it. The trouble is, it’s just that at the moment: plough. It’s not badly written or anything, though she does make a lot out of relatively thin contemporary documentation, but my mind set isn’t quite right for a learned tome right now and it is a rather poorer book than McLynn’s Lionheart and Lackland, which inspired me to look it out.
That brings me to the book in my bag at the moment. A novel that I started about ten days ago. I am on page 23. I was on page 23 ten days ago. The theory was that I should read it on the Tube in to work and again on the way home, but as it transpires, I just want to doze on the way in and I do the Times sudoku on my way home. At home I play Civ or watch the telly. Or doze.
Past experience suggests that this phase will last another two or three weeks and then suddenly all my reading buds will perk up again and I’ll be off…
Somewhere in the living room – on the shelf near my chair, I think – I have the half-read Eleanor of Aquitaine by Allison Weir. Considering the lengths I went to to get it (I seem to have purchased it between print or distribution runs), I really ought to plough on with it. The trouble is, it’s just that at the moment: plough. It’s not badly written or anything, though she does make a lot out of relatively thin contemporary documentation, but my mind set isn’t quite right for a learned tome right now and it is a rather poorer book than McLynn’s Lionheart and Lackland, which inspired me to look it out.
That brings me to the book in my bag at the moment. A novel that I started about ten days ago. I am on page 23. I was on page 23 ten days ago. The theory was that I should read it on the Tube in to work and again on the way home, but as it transpires, I just want to doze on the way in and I do the Times sudoku on my way home. At home I play Civ or watch the telly. Or doze.
Past experience suggests that this phase will last another two or three weeks and then suddenly all my reading buds will perk up again and I’ll be off…
I seem to be going through one of my periodical unable to settle with a book phases. I have a large number of books on my reading list and at least three on the go at the moment – though I think that I may have run out of steam with Kate Fox’ Watching the English about two thirds of the way through. What seemed funny and informative at the beginning now seems drab and repetitive. Back to the shelf with that one, I think.
Somewhere in the living room – on the shelf near my chair, I think – I have the half-read Eleanor of Aquitaine by Allison Weir. Considering the lengths I went to to get it (I seem to have purchased it between print or distribution runs), I really ought to plough on with it. The trouble is, it’s just that at the moment: plough. It’s not badly written or anything, though she does make a lot out of relatively thin contemporary documentation, but my mind set isn’t quite right for a learned tome right now and it is a rather poorer book than McLynn’s Lionheart and Lackland, which inspired me to look it out.
That brings me to the book in my bag at the moment. A novel that I started about ten days ago. I am on page 23. I was on page 23 ten days ago. The theory was that I should read it on the Tube in to work and again on the way home, but as it transpires, I just want to doze on the way in and I do the Times sudoku on my way home. At home I play Civ or watch the telly. Or doze.
Past experience suggests that this phase will last another two or three weeks and then suddenly all my reading buds will perk up again and I’ll be off…
Somewhere in the living room – on the shelf near my chair, I think – I have the half-read Eleanor of Aquitaine by Allison Weir. Considering the lengths I went to to get it (I seem to have purchased it between print or distribution runs), I really ought to plough on with it. The trouble is, it’s just that at the moment: plough. It’s not badly written or anything, though she does make a lot out of relatively thin contemporary documentation, but my mind set isn’t quite right for a learned tome right now and it is a rather poorer book than McLynn’s Lionheart and Lackland, which inspired me to look it out.
That brings me to the book in my bag at the moment. A novel that I started about ten days ago. I am on page 23. I was on page 23 ten days ago. The theory was that I should read it on the Tube in to work and again on the way home, but as it transpires, I just want to doze on the way in and I do the Times sudoku on my way home. At home I play Civ or watch the telly. Or doze.
Past experience suggests that this phase will last another two or three weeks and then suddenly all my reading buds will perk up again and I’ll be off…