question

how many books is too many? i am sitting in a chair right now that is surrounded, mostly, by books—books i've bought recently, or that i'm currently reading (the count is up to five, i think, but the three listed at the left are my serious reads), or that i've checked out from the library. i've started wanting to purchase a little milking stool (i know, don't even ask) on which to stack these books, so that i can actually use the ottoman for my feet.

now the question is not, "how many books is too many to own"...  no, no. it's the usual: "how many books is too many to read at once?" i still haven't figured out the answer, unsurprisingly. i've been quite distracted lately—oh, just thinking about life and my future and where i see myself in ten years and that sort of light mindfare—and apparently that translates into my reading needs changing a lot... depending on my mood at that moment. on one hand, it makes me endlessly happy that i can go over to my little bookshelf and pluck out the book i want to read right then. that tells me that my library is coming along nicely. on the other hand, when i have twelve books stacked up around me at any given time, that seems problematic.

didn't i just write a post about how i wasn't going to read any more than one book at a time, mostly because i was devoting myself to david foster wallace's infinite jest? why yes. yes i did. and now i am here to tell you that while i am still reading ij, i am also reading... a few other things. i've made my peace with it, though. the heart wants what the heart wants. so does the mind.

small book report: wildwood is going beautifully. i haven't read a young adult novel in some time, and i'm really enjoying the ease and fantasy of meloy's story. and, of course, ellis's drawings. (some of which are incomplete in my advance reader's edition, which i find charming.) it comes out in september! mark your calendars!
let's see... i'm also reading franny & zooey. i have read it before, a couple years ago, but i picked it up again and upon reading the first bit of it i couldn't put it down. salinger's way with words is just so... savory. that is the word that comes to my mind. also exquisite.
and of course, infinite jest. i am reading it slowly, enjoying it piece by piece. some writers have the amazing ability to pull you into even the most mundane of scenes, and david foster wallace is one of them. (incidentally, so is salinger.)

and thusly my rambling reader's confessional ends.
thank you for your attention in these matters.

it is monday... let's get this over with.
hasta luego. un beso. 
ciao!


images 1, 2 + 4 found here.
studs terkel found here.