That was so not the point. But I do love those bed lamps from Ikea. Get some! The point is...I really don't like to read nonfiction. I don't, in fact, often read anything other than stories. And those I read in abundance - quickly and often. But I keep feeling like I should be reading other stuff. If I can read thousands of pages a month, it just seems like a portion of that should be spent on something...productive. And I don't mean cookbooks. They're like an instruction manual for domestic bliss, and therefore always necessary.
I also have this strict thing about only reading one book at a time. And a thing about finishing a book unless it is so super bad that I just can't bear it (usually I can suffer through). One of my greatest dilemmas with nonfiction is that it's always a lot to take in at once. I just want to be entertained. I might really want to know that a thirsty camel can drink 30 gallons of water in less than 15min*, but I don't want to know everything about camels in one night. I don't think I ever want to know everything about camels.
But this strange thing is happening. I have been reading 4 very interesting non novels. And stranger still, I'm just interspersing them with my regular fiction. What is happening?! There is usually a 'to read' stack and a 'to return' pile, but right now my nightstand is all confused.
And on a fun literary note, this was one of my favorite books as a youngster. We just got it from the library last week. So great. Though now I wonder if it somehow fostered my deep and abiding affection for ketchup.
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* That was merely the first random fact that popped into my head. I haven't actually read a book about camels. Though maybe I should...
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