Writers can't not write. Musicians can't turn off the music in their heads. And it's next to impossible for a critic to stop critiquing. It's bad enough that most writers I know can't seem to turnoff the analysis of every book they read or movie they watch, but when that writer (me) is also a critic, it becomes hard to read just for pleasure. Oh, I enjoy most of the books I read, but there's something in my makeup that makes me want to share whatever I like or don't like, even in books I won't be formally reviewing.
This past week I've been ill, nothing serious just a rotten cold and badly infected throat, making most pursuits difficult, so I've spent a lot of time curled up in a comfortable chair, reading. I'll post reviews on Meridian of some of those books, but I read some good ones I won't be reviewing, too, and have decided to write a few things on this blog about some of them. For the most part, they are books that are too short to be considered novels, one is a book for children, and one is poetry.
I've enjoyed reading some books outside my usual areas and recommend that other readers try something new too. It's too bad I had to get sick to find the time to do it.