Though I’ve knit a few rows on Clapotis and the mystery shawl and on the lace swatch, I don’t have anything of note to say, nor photographs to share regarding those projects. Oh, and while we’re briefly on the subject of knitting, if you’re in the Los Angeles area the middle of next month, you might want to come and see the Harlot give a talk here!

So today we talk about books.

I was knitting a bit on Clapotis while treating myself early this morning by reading a few blogs. Kim had a link she shared about a survey that was done recently about reading, and how many books people read per year. She was appalled to discover that one in four adults surveyed didn’t read a single book last year. Not one book. Of the people who read books half of them read five books or fewer in a year. Take a look at my sidebar. Scroll down a bit. Yes, I’ve read 56 books so far this year. More than 90 each of the last two years. I think I’d skew their stats a bit, don’t you? While not everyone I know is a reader, the reasons people give for not reading vary from not being good at it (I have inside information there) to lack of interest to lack of time to deterioration of vision. Most of the people I’ve known who don’t read books say they don’t have time for it. That one’s always puzzled me. If one has an interest, I think there’s always time to be carved out in a day. I’ve always read in line, in the bathroom, in the tub, in bed. How about you? Are you a reader? Where would you fall in the survey’s stats?

Indoctrination

Speaking of reading, this week’s BTT question is from Erin.

When growing up did your family share your love of books? If so, did one person get you into reading? Do you have any family-oriented memories with books and reading (family trips to bookstore, reading the same book as a sibling or parent, etc.)?

Hm. Thinking about it, while I got my love of reading from my mother, she doesn’t take care of her books, she breaks the spines, uses them as coasters, and generally abuses them. Though my father was never a big book reader, spending more of his reading time with things like National Geographic magazines, Scientific American, and technical journals of various sorts, I must have gotten my love of books from him. He always took meticulous care of the books and magazines that he had. Both of my parents encouraged me to read while I was growing up—to a point. While they both wanted me to enjoy reading, they also always pushed me outside to do something, ride my bike, climb a tree, something other than sitting still with a book. I learned at a relatively early age that one of the few places I’d have some uninterrupted time to read was in the bathroom. Sad, huh? But because my mother always enjoyed a good book she went to the library to check them out on a semi regular basis, and especially once I reached a certain age, I was encouraged to go with her. There were a couple of summers after mom started working part time that I spent the summer either cleaning house or with my nose in a book alone at home. It was marvelous. Perhaps because I’ve always had to steal reading moments I got good at it at an early age, and manage to get through quite a few books a year even when my time is apparently completely scheduled with other things.

Knitting book

Here’s another knitting book for my wish list: Knitting Lace Triangles by Evelyn Clark. It looks marvelous.

Mooching

Moving on, I’ve told you about Book Mooch a couple of times, and showed you the first batch of books I received through trades. Here are some more of the books. I feel like giggling. I’ve shipped off a bunch of books to people mostly in the U.S., but in other countries, too, and got Christmas presents in return. Well, that’s what it feels like, anyway. What else do you call it when people you don’t know send you things in the mail that give you such joy? This is a collection of books by some of my favorite authors: Lee Child, Janet Evanovich, Mercedes Lackey, Minette Walters, Charlotte MacLeod; and a book by an author I’ve yet to try, Anne Bishop. That Anne Bishop book is the second or third in a trilogy. I don’t have the other two books yet. They’re on my wish list. They’ll get here. Sooner or later. I can wait.

If this pile isn’t enough to keep me busy reading for a while, there are also these book by David and Leigh Eddings—none of which I’ve read before. Joyous day! I fell in love with the Eddings’ books when they first published book one of The Belgariad, Pawn of Prophecy. I had to wait as each book in this series and the next (The Malloreon) was written. There was a delightful suspense to the waiting. I also first read their Elenium series eons ago, though for some reason never picked up the books of the Tamuli. Well, I have them all now, as well as the other delightful-looking stories they’ve come up with since then. Just this morning I began to delve into The Redemption of Althalus. It’s delightful so far. Just delightful.

Summer Mystery Reading Challenge

Alas, I’ve admitted to myself that I will not be completing the challenge in the allotted time. It’s not that there aren’t plenty of mystery authors already around the house that I haven’t read, because there are. It’s more a matter of not having really been in the mood for mysteries. See, in seven weeks near the beginning of the challenge I read all seven Harry Potter books. And another fantasy story or two. And Sense and Sensibility, which I didn’t enjoy nearly as much as I did Pride and Prejudice. And, well, then I dug out some Charlotte MacLeod books here, and well, read five of them in a row. Now I’m back to fantasy. And I only have just over a week left to read three more new-to-me mystery authors, and I know I’m not going to do it.

I threw in the towel.

If it’s any consolation, and I’m not sure whether it should be or not, before the summer challenge began I’d already read quite a few new-to-me authors this year: Margery Allingham, Sister Carol Anne O’Marie, Carolyn G. Hart in the mystery genre, as well as Jane Austin, Charlotte Brontë, Henry James, William Makepeace Thackeray (well, I tried him, anyway, but got disgusted with Vanity Fair and re-shelved the book), Zenna Henderson in other genres. See? Overall I’m not doing too badly this year.