I seem to be running for the Pickiest Reader Ever prize these days. I've started and set aside five or six books in the past couple of weeks. None of them were bad books--in fact, some were books by authors I've loved in the past. But none of them grabbed me. It was starting to feel like a series of failed first dates.
So it's with great relief that I tell you that I'm on page 89 of my current read and not tired of it yet. I picked up Leif Enger's 2008 book, So Brave, Young, and Handsome because I loved his Peace Like a River. He has a way with the characters, and the adventure-nobody-in-their-right-mind-would-go-on, in which anything could happen next. Also, there's an endearing snapping turtle which I'm hoping won't get eaten.
Have you ever worried you'd gotten too picky about books?
I think I need to go for some good, solid nonfiction after this one. Maybe something about turtles.