Many of my Christmas present this year, and by that I mean last year, were books and I'm certainly not complaining.
The list is as follows:
Labour Day (Joyce Maynard) - Done and dusted. It's very good, made me cry.
The Light Fantastic (Terry Pratchett) - Very keen.
Equal Rites (Terry Pratchett) - So keen I've already started
Untamed (P.C. and Kristin Cast) - Who doesn't love a mother daughter writing team. This is the fourth book in the House of Night series and the only one a friend I'd been borrowing them from didn't have.
Radiant Shadows (Melissa Marr) - This too is the fourth in a series but instead of vampires it's fairies. Ink Exchange (the second in the series) is so far my favourite.
The Sonnets (Warwick Collins) - I look forward to sinking my teeth into this fictitious tale of Shakespeare's life.
Howls Moving Castle (Diana Wynne Jones) - Now and animated movie. I saw the movie first and now I'm reading the book, so far so good.
Despite all these wonderful novels stacked up around my room, two of which I've started, I have found myself unable to press on and that is because of one simple thing. Before Christmas I finished reading Northern Lights, the first of Philip Pullman's brilliant trilogy, a novel so good that I had to plunge straight into the next one with little regard for those others I've left only just started. I have no doubt once I have finished The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass I will fall into my other novels one by one with equal delight, but until then I must put them away gently reassuring them that one day soon they too shall be read.
P.S. I read Labour Day whilst away in Melbourne after Christmas before I had the Northern Lights sequel readily at hand.
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