I walked to the library today while Chris was still at school to do a little writing and a little grading for my hubby. After getting bored with that, I perused the fiction section. I really think there ought to be two different fiction sections: Good Fiction, for the classics and those books that will become classics when they're older; and Junk Fiction, for idiotic chick lit about how much fun shopping is (you can build plots on that?!) and poorly written but inexplicably popular drivel.
Anyway, I picked out seven books and set down with them, intending to read the first chapter of each. Chris was a darn sight quicker getting home than I expected (he met me at the library), so I only got through a few. I'm sitting here next to Flannery O'Connor's Everything That Rises Must Converge, John Steinbeck's Tortilla Flats (a modernized version of King Arthur, which is my idea of a good time!), and Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses. I'll have to return for the others at a later date.
I admire the work ethic of some at the library. I got out of the house before school could let out so I wouldn't have to mingle with the chavs leaving the high school. But some kids actually did come in to the library to work ... on a Friday! I wish I'd had that work ethic when I was in school, but I guess it wasn't in my nature actually try studying and whatnot. A lot of that might have been that I seem to process things better by hearing (if I'd secured a few audiobooks I might have done better as an English major), so being a sponge my GPA turned out quite alright. Still, kudos to kiddos who got their work done licketysplit.