I keep an annual reading journal in which I list every book I’ve read (or tried to read) by month, adding brief personal comments about it. The joy of the last few days was that I read 2 books, 1 that I really enjoyed and the other that I loved. (I have levels, you see … from “couldn’t finish” to “enjoyed,” “really enjoyed,” and “loved.”) It takes a lot to get to that “loved” ranking, and somehow drawing that little heart next to the title in my journal made the whole week sweeter. At my age, I’ve read a LOT of books and I may be a bit jaded, I suppose, but it’s harder for a book to reach “loved” than it used to be. So happy me! The pleasure of reading a good book (think plot, characters, and prose combination) is as personal and individual as finding a favorite coffee or bed pillow, but give Murder at Gulls Nest by Jess Kidd a try. (The book is so much better than its title.) It may be an unexpected pleasure for you, too.
