Puny Crop

This is the current state of the garden. The cucumber shriveled up during the first sign of cold. There are some beets, carrots, and a few gourd-things. But it’s done.

Now that I’m writing more I’ve been reading less again. Since I finished Fates and Furies last month I haven’t been able to settle on a new book to read.

I don’t want to read anything too fat. I don’t want to start a series. I don’t want anything complicated with a lot of plot/world building to remember.

My one lone blue hubbard squash. Not sure if this is even enough for a pie.

I picked up one book but the front matter says that although it’s not a pure sequel, the events take place after the events of an earlier book and I would rather read that first. So I put it back.

I went through and picked and discarded several other books before finally decided that I wanted to try this one author that’s been on my list forever.

The book is fairly chubby and has tiny writing but I convinced myself the time was right.

I started reading and it opens something like “D’artaigna of the Clan Meash-Regal, Son of Ashtigous and Priest of the Temple Star-Desert walked through the Temple of the Turtle-Lemon, and its white-scarf wearing Priests bowing for their thrice daily prayers to the Gods of the W’thleta Lake. He savored the regithinia leaf under his tongue and considered the festival of the quinfinig’arnan blossoms and his promise to his Uncle Liet’momanta” … and so like that for several pages. I really tried to hang in there but after about 5 pages I threw the book across the room.

This is it for the pumpkins. Very skimpy crop this year. I’m going to buy a big old pumpkin at the farmer’s market.

I dug through my to-read shelf again and thought I’d read the second book by an author I read before. I read the first book in almost one sitting. This latest book is tragically terrible. I’m only going to finish it out of loyalty to the first book but this is a chore. Maybe the publisher rushed the author to get another book out and cash in on the success of the first. It’s a mess.

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