I started reading The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad earlier this week. It’s not normally a book I’d choose but it’s the July choice for one of my book groups. It started off okay but after about twenty pages I really wanted to give up on it. Normally I would have but because it was for book group I wanted to try.

Well, today at lunch I’m reading the book and I swear I must have read 10 pages and had no clue what was going on. So there I was with a yummy turkey and avocado sandwich but I couldn’t even enjoy my lunch hour because I wasn’t liking my reading material. Don’t you hate it when that happens? Anyway, I give up on this book as I’ve got tons of others that I am much more excited about reading.

One in particular is Hotel du Lac by Anita Brookner. I am thoroughly enjoying this book but of course I have to wonder what took me so long to finally discover her. Well, at least she does have a long backlist so lots of titles yet to be read.

I did finish Volk’s Game by Brent Ghelfi tonight so stay tuned for a review. Another book that’s not my typical choice but one that will probably appeal to fans of action/adventure/thriller type books.

So hope you enjoy your weekend. I know I will be wishing for some sun.

I came home today to new books, Good Poems for Hard Times and Sleepless Nights (which is for the next Slaves discussion). Of course that didn’t stop me from having a bit of a book splurge tonight. After all two books hardly counts right? So I finally ordered some books from The Book Depository.

I’ll keep you in suspense on the titles but two are Hesperus Press books and the other one is a Persephone book. I hope they arrive soon.

For tonight here is a poem from my new book.

What’s In My Journal
by William Stafford

Odd things, like a button drawer. Mean
things, fishhooks, barbs in your hand.
But marbles too. A genius for being agreeable.
Junkyard crucifixes, voluptuous
discards. Space for knickknacks, and for
Alaska. Evidence to hang me, or to beatify.
Clues that lead nowhere, that never connected
anyway. Deliberate obfuscation, the kind
that takes genius. Chasms in character.
Loud omissions. Mornings that yawn above
a new grave. Pages you know exist
but you can’t find them. Somone’s terribly
inevitable life story, maybe mine.

I love journaling so this poem really spoke to me. It has such vivid imagery and manages to express so much in just a few lines. I think I’ll enjoy my new poetry book quite a bit.