I usually like to have ideas in mind about what I want to write about as I'm working on my posts each week. Occasionally it will happen that the week stretches out before me and all I see is a vast and empty desert. This is that sort of week. Actually last week was also that sort of week, too. I think there's just too much going on right now, and I am having a hard time concentrating on my books (though I am making a very concerted effort). I'm still dealing with the after effects of this, which has taken much longer than I anticipated. The tree limb is gone and we've cleaned up as much as possible, but now we'll be working on replacing windows, gutters, window moldings, and a roof, to say nothing about lots of repairs on a truck. At least our insurance company has pulled through and should be covering all the damages (well more or less anyway).
It's really boring to talk about storm damage though, so I thought I'd share a photo of my current reads pile instead. The links for all these books can be found on my right sidebar. The pile is only missing a library book (still am undecided what to choose), and the book I received earlier this month from my postal reading group. I'm not sure whether I'll talk about it here as the books are meant to be a surprise for the readers, and I don't want to give anything away. I might just mention it in passing, as I'm not sure if many people from the group even stop by here. And notice how far along my bookmark has traveled in Les Misérables! While I may moan and groan about it, I am still making slow progress.
I will mention one of the books I've been reading for the last few days. At first I had uncertain feelings about Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility. Of course the writing is wonderful, just as you'd expect it to be. I just didn't find myself connecting with the story or characters as much as I had with her other works. Something clicked along the way, though. It's funny that a book written in 1811 or thereabouts could so easily be about a situation two sisters might find themselves in today. I guess that's what makes it a classic. It's their experiences with possible suitors that I'm getting a kick out of. Marianne who's somewhat free-spirited and expressive falls for the handsome John Willoughby. They totally click--they both love art and music and literature and throw themselves into things wholeheartedly. Marianne is more apt to wear her heart on her sleeve than her older more serene sister Elinor. Elinor is far less emotional than Marianne and contemplates things and considers the outcome before jumping in feet first. Anyway, I was reading about Elinor and Marianne's stay in London where Marianne had great expectations to cross paths once again with Willoughby. I had forgotten that feeling of anticipation of seeing someone you are enamored with. She literally couldn't sit still and could think only of seeing her beloved and agonized over whether he was in town and why he wasn't answering her notes. (Twenty-first century version of this...damn why hasn't he called, or maybe these days why hasn't he text-messaged!). To be sixteen again. Well, maybe not, thanks, but it's entertaining to read and be reminded of what that teenage angst felt like (and be happy I don't have to deal with it anymore). And Jane Austen does it all in such a stylish and eloquent manner. I think the second half of the book is going to go much more quickly than the first half!