Slumpish

I am trying to walk on out of Slumpville, following the exit signs, but there is slump on the bottoms of my shoes and my footprints follow me around.

After giving up on Sarah Vowell's book about Lafayette (it's me, not her), I struck out towards fiction and settled on Green Dolphin Street by Elizabeth Goudge.  It's an oldie, first published in 1944. I'm still a bit restless because Goudge was all about long long descriptions of scenery which makes me want to yawn and scratch.

I'm sticking with Green Dolphin Street because I think some of the main characters might end up in New Zealand later on and that sounds promising.  Also, if I finish and I am a good girl and don't cry,  I will treat myself to the movie version starring Lana Turner.

Here it comes, here it comes: Here comes my 19th nervous book slump

After I finished Focus, I fell into the abyss of book slumpery and I can't get up. Nothing looks pleasing.

Perhaps a rereading of Holidays on Ice would fix things.  Stay tuned.