Today I finished my second novel. First up was Portrait of an Addict as a Young Man and it was nothing like anything James Joyce ever wrote. I read so many reviews about this book - it's been in my queue forever. I'm not sorry I read it . . . it was a glimpse into a world I can't relate to at all and it was disturbing. But it wasn't exactly like last year when I read The Road.
Today's book was One More Theory About Happiness. Somehow I feel like I was tricked into reading this, certain if I knew the topic I never would have picked it up. No matter, by the end of it I was just so happy I did.
In the end, tomorrow will be all about one of those light beach reads I brought because, frankly, I am in need of light.
More to follow...