I've been in a weird reading place lately. My sweet spot is usually to have one fiction and one non-fiction book on the go, I try to alternate between genres and not go too long without a "broccoli book" (something that's good for me, that I usually end up enjoying more than I think I will), and when I'm in a rut I read short stories. But my focus is all over the place, and even while reading I find my mind wandering, and when I get into bed I can't decide what to pick up, and it scares me. Being a reader is such a huge part of my identity, and if depression or anxiety or getting-older hormones are disrupting that, well, that's not cool.
One thing I have to watch is over-using the library. I know, that sounds stupid doesn't it? But I splurged on three or four books that I really wanted to read at the beginning of the summer and I've only read one because of this habit I have of going to the library to pick up holds and then panic-grabbing two or three books off the shelf because GOD, WHAT IF I RUN OUT OF BOOKS? And then I go to the books that have a due date before the ones that don't. So it's NOVEMBER, and I haven't read Bark or Sorrow's Knot or Fly By Night, or the conclusion to the Daughter of Smoke and Bone series - it always sort of embarrasses me when I buy a book in hardcover and it comes out in paper before I've read the hardcover. I also surf around on the library ebooks and it's way too easy to borrow them without leaving the comfort of my bedroom. After the last two turned out to be complete dreck, I've decided I need to be more discerning about those.
So I've missed my window to read Dreams of Gods and Monsters sitting in the back yard between when it was too hot and got too cold. I guess I'll go for snuggled in my chair with many blankets on a snowy day. A really great book sort of demands a more auspicious reading setting, don't you think?
In the spirit of full disclosure, I've been turning up my nose slightly every time someone mentions The Goldfinch, because we did Donna Tartt's The Secret History in my book club many years ago and most of us, including me, found it shallow, melodramatic and silly. I got it out of the library for my mom, and she gave it back to me yesterday. I started reading it today and so far I'm finding it riveting. So there's that.