#1 Son (and by the way, if you’re reading this? Call home, okay?) and I suggest a lot of books to one another. As the mother, I started doing this when he was a wee little thing. He was an only child until he was four years and 8 months old–the era to which he refers as the best years–and had most of my attention. We did a lot of reading together. He has the good fortune for an actor to have an excellent memory (except for returning my phone call about when he can come home for Christmas, so we can plan a family event) of everything he has read. I can reference a children’s book in the subtlest fashion, and he recognizes it immediately.
He’s also great at remembering the characters and plot lines in complicated books, which I hope is serving him well in the Russian lit class he is taking this fall.
There is nothing like a really, really good book on a gloomy day. A couple of years ago, #1 Son suggested that I read “A Game of Thrones,” by George R.R. Martin, mostly because he loved it and wanted to talk about it with someone. As it turned out, Pure Luck was a fan, and #2 Son and I read the three books in the series that summer. Two years later, the 4th book is finally available. You may notice that in my sidebar the list of Books I’m Reading shrank to one today. That is because I will not deceive myself into thinking that I will be reading a single other thing until I finish Martin’s newest, “A Feast for Crows.” I am a couple of weeks behind my son; he ordered a copy from Amazon UK. But today I went to the bookstore and got my copy, came home and ran a bubble bath, and started reading.
Have I mentioned that working is very inconvenient when you have a really, really good book to read?
Friends, what is the last book you could not put down without an extreme act of will?