I've slowly been digging my way through Ready Player One and The House on Durrow Street. Both are good, but for whatever reason I cannot read them in large chunks. It might say more about my current restless state of mind than about the books, though.
I tried to read The Book of Eleanor—I love the story of Eleanor and Henry II—but I only got a few pages in. I didn't care for the writing style. That is, of course, subjective. I'm sure it's a fine book for those who like the way Ms. Kaufman writes. And it could be, too, that I just so love Alison Weir's novel that nothing else looks good to me by comparison.
The book I'm most enjoying at the moment is the one I'm reading aloud to my 9-year-old son: Charmed Life by Diana Wynne Jones. We're doing all the Chrestomanci books, and I'd forgotten how much I absolutely love them. I look forward to our evening reads as much or more than my son does these days.
In the wings, I have Life after God by Douglas Coupland, Three Maids for a Crown by Ella March Chase, and Broken Harbor by Tana French. Plus we're planning a trip to the library this afternoon, so maybe I'll find something that catches my fancy. Something that keeps me pinned to the page. These days that's been hard to come by.
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