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List, list, oh list
Past half-past November and I have yet to finish a book. This is partly because Tibetan Buddhism is slow going, requiring a certain chew and digest that Sherlock Holmes does not, and partly because Tibetan Buddhism is a heavy book, so my portable reading is something else. Thus I have several books on the go:
The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama
-- with underlinings by a previous reader. This always lends a meta-reading to my reading: so why'd she underline *that* bit?
Buddha Mom
-- mh well. Some people do live like that.
Gaslight Arcanum: Uncanny Tales of Sherlock Holmes
-- as The Italian Secretary demonstrated, putting the uber-rationalist Holmes up against a supernatural foe will usually get you something that is not Conan Doyle for sure (oddly, in view of his later proclivities) but worse, isn't Holmes either.
Point of Dreams
-- a book which repays a third reading, and possibly a fourth as well. This is dense world-building, as I probably said before, and the structure of it must be teased out from throwaway lines. And what's the word for that, BTW?
Also wonder why I associate it with November, specifically November 2001, when I read it in the summer of that year. No matter. Is a happy throwback to another time.
The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama
-- with underlinings by a previous reader. This always lends a meta-reading to my reading: so why'd she underline *that* bit?
Buddha Mom
-- mh well. Some people do live like that.
Gaslight Arcanum: Uncanny Tales of Sherlock Holmes
-- as The Italian Secretary demonstrated, putting the uber-rationalist Holmes up against a supernatural foe will usually get you something that is not Conan Doyle for sure (oddly, in view of his later proclivities) but worse, isn't Holmes either.
Point of Dreams
-- a book which repays a third reading, and possibly a fourth as well. This is dense world-building, as I probably said before, and the structure of it must be teased out from throwaway lines. And what's the word for that, BTW?
Also wonder why I associate it with November, specifically November 2001, when I read it in the summer of that year. No matter. Is a happy throwback to another time.