I had tried to read Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights at least twice before finally getting through it in January. The novel was never assigned to me, that I can recall. But it’s one of those books so often referenced that not having read it felt like an absence. Continue reading “Wuthering Heights and the power of love”
This month, every book I read came from my existing library. I’m going to savor that for a minute…
[*dramatic pause*]
This is the first month since making the conscious decision to read my own books that all my reads were my own. Of course, I must thank Andi of Estella’s Revenge for #ReadMyOwnDamnBooks and Benjamin Thomas of The Writing Train for the Book Hoarder’s challenge. Both have inspired me to stare down my gargantuan library. I’m … still buying books, un-redeemable book hoarder that I apparently am. But I’m making progress. Slow, snail-like progress. Continue reading “Reading my own books in 2017: January reads”
