I'm sorry, soooooooo sorry...
Okay...for some reason, after having spent more money than I could possibly earn on new books (that continue to pile up each month unread and yet I continue to go buy new books), I -- on purpose -- went down to the basement and flung boxes around until I found the one filled with crappy old novels that I've read half a dozen times and aren't particularly well written. Well, they're okay but they're trite and not exactly in line for The Next Great American Novel.
Why in the world do you suppose I would do that? I can't even figure myself out. The whole time I was doing it I was horrified. But for whatever reason, I was craving an easy, not particularly emotionally challening, not particularly good book. Why would I crave that?! Does this mean I watch too much Laguna Beach?! I'm going to literary hell, I can feel it.
I'm so sorry, good books on my shelf. I am! I WILL read you!
Why in the world do you suppose I would do that? I can't even figure myself out. The whole time I was doing it I was horrified. But for whatever reason, I was craving an easy, not particularly emotionally challening, not particularly good book. Why would I crave that?! Does this mean I watch too much Laguna Beach?! I'm going to literary hell, I can feel it.
I'm so sorry, good books on my shelf. I am! I WILL read you!