Remember that time I said I was going to read my own books for the rest of the year?
So how’d that work out for you?
Like shite. Thanks for asking.
The problem is I work in a library, so the plan was all but gone in the loo from word one.
To wit, this past week I picked up no less than three books from the library:
- The Guards and The Killing of the Tinkers, both by Ken Bruen, the first two of the Jack Taylor series, which might explain my faux Irish/English jargon adapted/slaughtered in this post,
- and Sixkill by Robert B. Parker.
I had gotten The Guards as a sample on e-book and was going to buy it but then went to see if our library had it. It didn’t, as well as not having the third in the series, The Magdalen Martyrs, so after examining the other books in the series to make sure they had been checked out more than a few times (and they had), I asked the director if she could order the first and the third ones. She did and then at the end of last month they arrived.
Without my knowing it, they had slipped past my radar onto the new book shelf and then this past week, when I saw The Guards come across the circulation desk, I knew it was time to read it…
…and knew right then and right there I was fucked five ways from Sunday in ever keeping my pledge to read only my own books for the rest of the year.
Since that was the case, not only did I pick up that one and the second one of the Jack Taylor series, but also I put the third one on hold (since it also had been put out in circulation without my knowing it) and checked out Sixkill by Robert B. Parker, the last in the Spenser series.
Now begins the long spiral down where my books languish on my shelves unread for the next 10 years and I am forced, FORCED I tell you, to read only books from the library for that same time span.
Wish me luck…