Ok, so I said I love a weepy book and I'd forgotten just how heart-wrenching To Kill a Mockingbird is. Fabulous read. Thoroughly enjoyed every page. And I'm considering working 'nome' into my vocabulary, but I suspect it's less endearing when coming from a grown English woman rather than an American child with a lovely southern drawl. Ah well. I'm getting into the pace a bit more now and have jumped straight into Little Women. Shocked at myself for never having read it before, it has been sat on my shelf for about eight years I think.
I got far too excited yesterday when my Amazon package arrived containing the the next delights to add to the somewhat intimidating stack that is now growing in my living room. The Book Thief and Birdsong look intriguing. I'm a little concerned that since so many of the most-loved books in the world centre around hard-hitting, traumatic and emotional experiences I may come out of the other end of this feeling it's a tough old world and wondering where the joy is. Hopefully I'll come out with a new appreciation of my own circumstances and realising how lucky I am to not be any of the characters in these books!
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