240 pages … from the days when a novel was bite sized … before the need to construct tomes and epics infected the genre.
A departure from personal anguish … I read a book.
This is more significant than it appears … I have only completed one book since we moved to this town. I’ve been trying to finish a Ludlum novel for months now – something that wouldn’t have used up a whole weekend before but something’s changed and it was starting to concern me.
But it would appear that the need to escape from personal bulls**t can overcome even 5 Corona Extras and allow me to read. So all is not lost. On the reading front anyway … my heart’s a definite write-off.
And what book did I plow through? (started last night, finished today)
Quicksand by John Brunner
An older Science Fiction one, from 1967.
This one was a library discard.
Slightly depressing, almost mainstream and not SF – almost.
Brunner was always one of my favourite authors … but I can’t say this was one of my favourites of his. (I think Shockwave Rider is close to first)
Now to get on with the 30 or so books waiting for me …
and leave my bulls**t life back here in the so-called real world.