20 September 2008

A Tour of My Bookshelves, Part 7 of 33

Confession: I need to do dishes, clean my room, and do all the chores I've been putting off for what feels like months.

Reading:
  • "L. DeBard and Aliette: A Love Story," by Lauren Groff
  • The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton
Writing:
  • "Ferian Fetlock Hitches a Ride" - 1,455 words (Estimated completion 14%)
  • "Ferian Fetlock Catches a Cold" - Outline 100%
Revising:
  • "The Revenant"
  • "Cora and the Sea" - Third draft 50%

Still no word from the Tea Lady. I'll send another email on Monday.

Before I start, let's not forget:

The previous entries in this series:
The first real shelf in the Case of Attractive Books is pretty much just more of the same. Please try to ignore the motorcycling and surfing Tiki-dudes. They have no bearing on anything.

On the left, we start with several of the works of Pearl S. Buck. Perhaps my confession should have been that the only book of hers I've read is The Good Earth. Of course, not many people know that she's written anything else, so I suppose I shouldn't feel too bad.

Following that, we have The Age of Chivalry. I actually own The Age of Fable as well, but it's been on loan to my boss for about a year now. I should probably ask for that back.

I haven't read the next book either. The Secret Garden. Of course, I was never a twelve-year-old girl, so I guess that can be excused.

Although I haven't finished the complete works of Lewis Carroll, I've read enough to feel confident that Alice in Wonderland and its sequel are really the best things he wrote. Sometimes, a certain book is famous because it fit the public taste, but there's dozens of other, often better works hiding in the wings. Not so with Mr. Carroll, at least in my opinion.

The book that follows is a worthy tome, though. Don Quixote has always been one of my favorites, and I've read it at least three times, although I don't know if I've read this particular copy. One of my favorite memories is reading it while drinking hot chocolate and eating animal crackers, while sitting on the floor of my room.

Chaucer... what can I say about him that hasn't already been said? I keep meaning to push all the way through The Canterbury Tales, but have never quite managed. It always makes me feel bad that they were never finished.

That next book whose title you can't read is The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins. Look it up--it's generally thought to be the first real mystery novel. Another I haven't read, but now that I think of it, perhaps that will be my next.

A few more classics follow. Cooper and Crane are American masters, and if you haven't read them, you should. Robinson Crusoe is also worth reading. It's one of those rare stories that everyone knows about but no one has actually read.

Finally, I come to Dicken's Corner. Once, I had the opportunity to get a complete set of Dickens, but wasn't willing to spend the money. I regret it now. Out of these, the only one I haven't read is The Mystery of Edwin Drood. The one blocked out by the surfer tiki's hair is Nicholas Nickelby, in case you're wondering.

What's coming up next? Well, zoom in on the picture if you really want to know; you can see the top of the next shelf too.

Publication Status:
  • Submitted: 5
  • Accepted: 1
  • Rejected: 2
  • Pending: 2

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