Your Humble Blogger is running behind, as usual, on these Book Reports. Nine, by a quick count, which is well over the point I start forgetting to put stuff on the list and it drops out entirely. Not terribly good.
Why do I get so far behind? Well, I am preternaturally lazy. I mean, of the Seven Deadly Proverbial, sloth is my major whatsit, the one that I don’t even have any real idea how to combat. But also there is, believe me or not, Gentle Reader, a certain pressure to say something witty or insightful, when logging that I’ve read a book, and when I have nothing to say, before admitting that I have nothing to say, I will dawdle and distract myself and hope that something will come to mind.
This is particularly bad when I am rereading something that I have read several times, and that many if not most of my Gentle Readers have read as well. Take Murder Must Advertise, for example. I reread it recently because it was on the nightstand. Well, technically it was on my Best Reader’s nightstand; she had picked it up as a Bath Book, I believe, and for some reason I was bookless at a key moment and picked it up, and then decided to read the whole thing. So I did. And… that’s pretty much all there is to say about that.
So, Gentle Reader, if you were having a particularly optimistic day, and thought oh, a Wimsey note, I wonder what he’s got to say, I apologize for the disappointment. Really. But there it is.
Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.