Right now there are just too many delicious things I want to read. Just yesterday I received my copy of Bull Spec #4, which turns out to be a truly amazing thing so far, every page worth reading, some of them worth reading more than once. Guess I need to keep sending them stuff so I get free copies:)
Right now on the way to me is Rothfuss's Wise Man's Fear. Naturally, I would just wait all day for the mail only to then devour it whole. I mean, seriously, The Name of the Wind left me speechless and sleepless and I kinda hate it when books do that because it conflicts with life in the real world. Duh. Naturally, there are few things better.
However, I am currently engaged in another captivating read. Catherynne M. Valente's Palimpsest is a wild and haunting thing, and rarely has a book managed to speak to me so clearly, so vibrantly, that I simply could not--would not--read it all in one session. Palimpsest simply is too big for that and I could not fully taste it all if I just kept on reading, so I try to make the pages last, like dark chocolate that you keep in your mouth without swallowing, I try to make it last.
Hence, things keep kinda piling up. I do live among stacks of books, have always done so and enjoyed it, but I hate it when there are books stacked up that I'm itching to read. How can there just not be enough time to read all of this, why do people even have to sleep (this is something I have long been asking myself, nocturnal as I am, doing almost all my writing at night)?
Would it not been something to find a sheet of timeless time that you can wrap yourself in, all cozy, and dive into the pages? I think I would like that.