mysteries

On Sunday, I walked down to the Seattle Mystery Bookshop in Pioneer Square. I was looking for an out-of-print book by a particular author, and was willing to buy a book by another author, as well. I went in, turning off my cell phone as requested, and was awed by the sheer number of mystery novels they have. It's not a huge store, but it's not tiny either, and its shelves are packed. They have brand new editions and used ones, too. And if I ever kind of, sort of thought about trying to be up on all the big mystery authors and know them all, I have now officially given up on that idea. There are so many mystery authors out there, and they aren't all good, and even if they were, it's just too many. There are classic authors I have never heard of before. It's daunting. They didn't have the out-of-print book I was looking for, but I didn't ask about it, and so maybe they would help me find it. I bet they would. They (i.e., the man behind the counter) looked very helpful. Instead, I bought a new paperback copy of the next book in another series that I am reading.

And I felt guilty about it, because I already had about 23 books sitting at home, waiting to be read, plus the 82 books on my list at the library. And then there's my queue at Netflix, which will take me 4 years to get through at my current 2-DVDs-per-month speed, which has been too fast lately. And there's the DVDs I have on hold at the library, too. And the New Yorkers and National Geographics that I am behind on. And yeah, there's work, too! Keep forgetting that...

Right now I am reading "The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" by Rebecca Wells, whom I actually saw with my own very two actual eyes in February, on this actual island. I thought, ooh, Rebecca Wells, I should read her book. So I am, years after the rest of the country read it. And I am ambivalent toward it so far (I'm about halfway through). The story is okay, but the writing is not that great, which just goes to show how hard it is to write well, and in particular how hard it is to tell a story well. There are moments of something like greatness, though. Just when I want to give up on the book, there is some passage that makes me feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, which I'm sure Wells would be thrilled to hear about. I don't particularly enjoy it, but I guess I'll keep reading. I will still have 23 books to read when I am finished with it, though, with the Laurie R. King novel I bought on Sunday. Her books and her writing I like. She has a nice blog, too, where I can go and read her writing any time I like. Cool.

I'm getting a cold. Bleh.