I've been slow to pick up books lately, and quick to put them down. Must be a season I am going through.
I'm still reading The Liar's Club from last week's post, but it doesn't keep my attention. It is a memoir. I've been picking up a lot of memoirs lately. Next time I will have to remind myself that I really don't find the memoir genre all that appealing on the whole. I'm interested enough in other people to want to peek into their lives, but not interested enough to put my life on hold to read about theirs. What does that say about me?
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