i am happily buried in a pile of pages.

I promise that I haven't forgotten that on Thursdays, I usually blab about my latest book love. I really do remember that, and I still have a list of books that you certainly shouldn't live without. Promise.

But my brain has been very happily full of Les Miserables lately, and between that and my work-in-progress (you remember the old lady, of course?), I haven't had much room for other books. I'm so sorry.

But these have been good days for a reader. Very good days. Cold days, warm blankets, a bit of wine, and a massive French novel on my lap? I'm doing just fine, thank you.

412 pages down. So I'm a third the way there? I'm a third of the way through.

And oh my goodness, I completely recommend this experience. It's selling me on the concept of the massive book. I can see myself doing this every February, certainly: maybe next February is Don Quixote, and then War and Peace, and then, and then?  

It makes me giddy.

Seriously, friends, Hugo is blowing me away. I've gotten so absorbed in this story, and I'm gasping and laughing out loud. (Who says a book isn't interactive??)

And I love how it fits into my days. I love getting time to read... okay, I love forcing myself to read! Reading in huge gulps. Love. It.

Reading is why I write: so then, why is reading so easy to skip? Pfffft.

Go get yourself lost in a sea of a novel, a big wide country of a book. Pack your blanket, your tea or coffee or wine, your soft pillow, your quote book, your patch of sunlight. And then go get lost. Seriously. You'll be so glad you did.