This is my last post before I leave Sunday for a two-week vacation. It’s the dog days of August, Paris is deserted, and my batteries are in need of some recharging. I’m looking forward to a couple weeks of no internet and no e-mail, and the time to dive into the stack of books I’ve gathered for the trip.
I’ve been fighting off the urge all week to get started early on Man Gone Down, by Michael Thomas, which had me the first time I saw the title. I also grabbed Jonathan Lethem’s latest novel, You Don’t Love Me Yet, which I’d never even heard about and looks a bit flimsier than his other stuff (a rock band in L.A. is a bad sign). But I’ve been a big admirer since Motherless Brooklyn, and once I dig an author, I’m a pretty loyal reader.
After the novels, I’ll be trying to crack Dilip Hiro’s survey of Central Asia, Ahmed Rashid’s Descent into Chaos, and for some lighter fare, On Killing by Dave Grossman. But they’ll be facing some stiff competition from my extraordinary ability to lie in the sun doing nothing.
As readers go, you folks are a pretty quiet bunch. I know from the traffic stats that you’re out there, but I don’t get a whole lot of feedback from you. Fact is, with a few exceptions (and those being mainly other bloggers who I know stop by because they respond to what I’ve written), I don’t really know who “you” are. Still — and here’s the funny part — I’ll miss you.
I plan, however, on being back before you miss me.