Binging on Books

Oh my...I wonder how one can add "ing" to binge without it becoming a word that could rhymes with "singing". Oh well, it's May and I have already begun my hibernation with books. I think it is a holdover from childhood when I spent my summers reading everything I could get my hands on....the advantage of growing up with no TV. Imagination ran amuck through story after story building images in my mind of what characters looked like, where they lived, what they ate and what they were doing with themselves between the pages. And I'm still doing it.



I'm into great mysteries now and just finished Lee Childs latest, 61 Hours, and of course, I have fallen once again in love tall, rugged, handsome and carefree (no luggage) Jack Reacher. And OMG, do I have to wait for the next novel to find out what happened to him? I'll try to be patient!



I am working my way through Atherton's Aunt Dimity series to hold off diving into Larsson's posthumous The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. I guess my fascination with what was behind closed doors was a result of all the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys series. I loved Nancy and her convertible and was sure I would grow up to be a detective in spite of my dad's prodding toward law. That didn't last long but the imagination has been a partner ever since. I fooled them all and became a potter, painter and writer. Who woulda thunk!