Losing My Way

I spent some time wandering around the local big box bookstore last night and was dismayed that I couldn't find a single thing other than the two books I was looking for. I was in an odd mood I guess. Well, that's not strictly true.

I've been off kilter reading wise for about a week or so. I started & put down three separate romances in three separate subgenres. One was written in some wierd 'sailor's dialect.' I don't know what else to call it. It was a pirate/smuggler romance (which I've not read in ages) by an author I'd not heard of before, but it was only a quarter at the library sale. Tossed into the trade bag immediately. I hate dialect. Scottish. American Southern. Native American. Whatever. Just write in standard English, please.

So anyhow, I'm not reading much of anything. Bad sign. I'm slowly working my way through Piers Anthony's Bio of an Ogre, the first of his autobiographies. I love his touch. Light. Deft. Unique outlook. Turns out I am woefully behind in the Xanth series. And did you know- he's written two volumes of erotica! Knock me over with a feather.

Here's wishing better reading blessings to you~