Reading In Between.
Amidst a (winding-down) summer packed with Denver-bound visitors and multiple trips back east (-to attend weddings, family dinners, and attempt an unrequited fix of New York City), I (finally) find myself with a few hours to do anything I please, and I choose the only obvious choice: begin (reading) a new novel. My personal library fills with promises of endless entertainment, as I run through the list of usual suspects - Eggers, (Z.) Smith, Chabon, and Auster - debating whether to leap into contemporary angst or visit old friends in the Victorian era. Enjoy!
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