Once again I am without a Friday reading assignment. My life has not yet returned to normal. Indeed, I may need to redefine normal because most likely we will never achieve my former version of "normal lives" again. I've been reading a few books lately but none of them have been so satisfying that I want to compel the rest of you to read them.
I read 1776 by David McCullough, which is certainly very good but at times feels more like medicine--good for you, but not necessarily what you want if you're trying to escape. I also read Little, Big by John Crowley. This has been labeled as the best work of fantasy by an American. I loved it at first but found much of the middle to be a bit of a slog. It requires more concentration than someone who is going through a crisis can devote to it. Still, if you feel ready for the sort of novel that provides reward for a challenge, then this might be the book for you. It's the story of a family in upstate New York that has a relationship with fairies. I also read Charlotte Sometimes by Penelope Farmer. This is a children's book about a girl at a British boarding school who exchanges places in time with the girl who slept in the same bed, forty years before. This was excellent and great comfort literature and I was pleased to learn that it's part of a trilogy. Finally, I am reading Flashman and the Tiger, the last book in the Flashman series. I am sorry to say that this is the novel in which Flashman jumps the shark.
In lieu of a proper assignment this week, please leave a comment if you've ever read something that was so good that you felt compelled to tell everyone you know to read it too.