I’ve been thinking a lot about books lately. Perhaps it’s the need to bury myself in something so I don’t think about how wrong things have gone in the world. I read mysteries/crime fiction/thrillers almost exclusively – it’s the structure, the knowing that bad things will happen, but resolution will be achieved. And there are some wonderful books being written these days.
My recent reading has included Lake House by Kate Morton, The Alienist by Caleb Carr, Elizabeth George’s new book A Banquet of Consequences and Louise Penny’s newest, The Nature of the Beast. All are wonderful examples of fine writing, fine characters, fine plots. But Penny’s books are something more – they are filled with horrible things couched in poetry. And as a result they are even more frightening. But always, thankfully, they provide hope… sometimes only a glimmer, but hope nonetheless. And for that I am eternally thankful.
And with Thanksgiving soon approaching, I find I am ever more thankful for books. For those that provide hope; for those that expand the curious mind and for those that keep the dark world at bay. May you too have something or someone in your life for which to be thankful. As for me, I’m off to read something remarkable on this dark, dreary, cold Wisconsin day.