It's been a lighter year in books for me than most - I think all the stresses have made it hard for me to sink into a good read than I'd like. I have watched more TV, exercised less, and read less. But you know what? I'm okay with that - it's what I've needed to get through! And I'm going to start doing some burpees and split squats while watching ( Read more... )

Well, another year has gone by. This year, I've read 49 books with a total of 21,466 pages. I've also read The New Yorker every week and The Atlantic every month, both subscriptions courtesy my dad; and Analog monthly, courtesy me. It doesn't count three books I've started but haven't finished yet, which is probably another 400-600 pages all told ( Read more... )

I've been reading Tom Wolfe's series of essays, Hooking Up, on loan from my dad, who urged me to read them. (If you read the blurb, don't be misled - it's not really a cantankerous rant on how the country is going to hell in a handbasket, I promise.) Outside of science and things like Mary Roach, I'm mostly a fiction reader, but I can be persuaded ( Read more... )