Today’s SBD: one book read, three books purchased. That proportion is not exactly as I would prefer, since I’m still on the purging plan. (That sounds unpleasant but it’s not, truly.) But it’s a function of my utter lack of self-control.
The original plan for this morning was to go to MoMA and take in the Diego Rivera exhibit, but I wasn’t really in the mood for a museum crowd. Instead I headed down to Union Square and the Strand bookstore. Spent an hour and a half in the store and never made it off the first floor. Ended up leaving with Bill Bryson’s Shakespeare, and used copies of Sara Creasy’s Song of Scarabaeus and Bujold’s Sharing Knife: Horizons. Yes, yes, I own a hard copy of the Bujold book, but when I saw it there in the half price bin, I felt an irresistible need to re-read the series. (At least I managed not to buy the other books of the series while I was there :P) It’s a good thing I didn’t make it upstairs or down to the basement; who knows what I would have bought?
The only book I’ve read lately is Joanna Bourne’s The Black Hawk. A few years ago Bourne’s The Spymaster’s Lady was THE book; I read it but didn’t lurve it like everyone else. Bourne wrote beautifully, but the hero and heroine just didn’t matter to me. A secondary character in that book, Adrian Hawkhurst, was the most intriguing character of the bunch. As you might guess based on the title, The Black Hawk is his story. Skipping between 1818 and 1794 with pauses at various points in between, Bourne tells the love story and adventure of Justine (aka Owl), a French spy, and Hawker, an English spy. Once again, very well-written (IMO) yet after finishing the book, I know I’ll never read it again. Why? Eh. As interesting as the story is, as much as I appreciate a historical in which the h/h get their HEA when then are over 30, I didn’t really care about the characters.