you want booky booky
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I'm either playing rummy (and losing) or reading on my lunch breaks now. This is acceptable.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Holy shet mon. It's fantastic and utterly bleak and the light at the end of the tunnel turns out to be a train. My father handed it to me and said, "You will love this." It reads quickly, and there was nothing in the world that could have made me put it down. Except the boy in the story, and his sudden unwarrented spurts of morality and charity. And his punish worthy habit of leaving things behind, like the only gun.
Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. Serial killer in Chicago during the World's Fair. Highly creepy. Cuts back and forth between one of the architects and said serial killer. I thought it was sort of draggy in parts but the writing was attractive enough to keep me going. My Aunt Judy recced me this one. All of her notes are in the margins. :D
Hee! Shoo.
I'm either playing rummy (and losing) or reading on my lunch breaks now. This is acceptable.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Holy shet mon. It's fantastic and utterly bleak and the light at the end of the tunnel turns out to be a train. My father handed it to me and said, "You will love this." It reads quickly, and there was nothing in the world that could have made me put it down. Except the boy in the story, and his sudden unwarrented spurts of morality and charity. And his punish worthy habit of leaving things behind, like the only gun.
Devil in the White City by Erik Larson. Serial killer in Chicago during the World's Fair. Highly creepy. Cuts back and forth between one of the architects and said serial killer. I thought it was sort of draggy in parts but the writing was attractive enough to keep me going. My Aunt Judy recced me this one. All of her notes are in the margins. :D
Hee! Shoo.