The California lockdown has begun. And to mark this occasion, I picked up a new book to read over the weekend: Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. I generally float between 2 or 3 books at the same time. It keeps me chugging along, albeit a bit slower than most folks doing one at a time.
What happens in this book juggle is I inadvertently finish a book first before the others. I don’t let myself fall to only one book, so I add at least one to the rotation. I always try to keep the mix going. Picture that guy in the circus that catches the bowling pins. I read some chapters put it down, and almost always go to the next book in my group unless I’m in a place I don’t want to stop for a while. It can happen quite often in suspenseful narratives. There are times you don’t want to go to the next one immediately.
The completed book that left the circle is Rebecca Serle’s In Five Years, which was pretty good. It took the premise of where the main character saw herself in 5 years and how radically different it could be, aided by a vision or dream she had (we’re never sure). It was something she started to see play out before her very eyes over time. Imagine having a premonition of COVID in 2015 and watching it transpire.
Anyway, Gothic is about a young woman who visits her cousin after several distressing letters, about her husband trying to kill her. The husband’s letters back tell a different story. She goes to investigate, and the creep factor sets in. This story is not generally one I would go for, but I read a few good things about it. I’m in the right mood for it.
Now with the sad prospect of no softball practice for a while (ironically with my shoulder back to normal), I will count on the books for some form of entertainment. I do the boob tube as well; I feel I have to shut that noise off sometimes. There is a quiet brilliance in reading. It’s a world that you create. Indeed, the writer paints the picture somewhat, but your brain is the thing that fills the detail in. Your imagination gets to do some lifting.
