My escapist reading has changed. It used to be chick-lit. Now that I'm on the wrong side of my mid-thirties, it's Star Trek novels. I'll still dip my toe in the odd chick-lit novel, and I'm excited at the prospect of a new Marian Keyes coming out this year, but by and large I've moved on. Or sideways. Or something.
I suppose now that I'm on the slope heading for 40, I should take up mum-lit. But I just can't. I work fulltime, I have a husband and a son, and pretty much (half-assedly) run a household. And I've read one or two. But I get this odd sensation, like I haven't really had a break. I go from taking care of my family to reading about someone else's and where's the escapism?
So ... Star Trek. Specifically, The Next Generation and Voyager.
I can travel to the final frontier and truly leave myself behind for a while.
I'm still picking away at Sense and Sensibility, although I haven't picked it up for a few days. I've been re-reading The Lord of the Rings for .... um ... two years? I'm finally up to Return of the King, so I"ve been giving that some attention.
The good thing is, I've read it so many times that months can lapse before I pick it up again and I still know where I am.
So. Star Trek, Sense and Sensibility and The Lord of the Rings. That's what I'm reading at the moment, with a side order of What-the-Dickens by Gregory Maguire and the occasional foray into The Reality Dysfunction.
That'll do.
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