In Cold Books

This proliferation of posts is definitely procrastination. I am supposed to re-read In Cold Blood by Sunday for my book group, but I just can't bring myself to start. I read it 3 years ago and I have pretty good recall of it, but not sufficiently fresh to bring anything scintillating to a discussion. I remember reading the description of the murders and thinking, "Man, I hope I don't ever have to read that again." Sadly, I have not yet seen Capote, despite my worship of Philip Seymour Hoffman, since the suburban moms that Reel Moms serve wouldn't actually be interested in a movie with substance, as evidenced by the drek that is shown. Anyway, hopefully those who have can regale the rest of us with anecdotes.

Last week I read The Illuminator, which was one of those books Amazon recommended and pitched to me at paperback price for a hardcover. Sucker. Historical fiction that read like a fantasy novel, only not as intricate in its plot. For those with an inner medievalist, it's not bad, but I am never trusting reader reviews again.

I read something before that and, since I didn't put it on my list, I am momentarily blanking on what it was. Yikes. Mothering-induced amnesia. Before the missing book, I read Michael Malone's Handling Sin, which was brilliant and hilarious and, the more I think about it, the more I love it.

The Murakami story in the New Yorker 2 weeks back is also doing reruns in my brain. Our next cat will be named Haruki.

I continue to pick up a book on brain development during the first 5 years, What's Going on in There, whenever I find myself nursing in my bedroom without any other reading material handy. It is fascinating and surprisingly well written. If you're interested in cognitive development but don't have a degree in neurobiology, I highly recommend it.