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Fine literature vs. scary boat stories

I had my act so absolutely not together this morning that I forgot even to pack a book to read. I had nothing to do on the bus but pick my nose and wallow in regret. Luckily, I won't have to make the return trip empty-handed. This is because the place where I work has a nice free 'lending library' which is a bookshelf that actually has some pretty good novels in it. I took The Confessions of Max Tivoli a little while ago (it's a pretty good book, by the way).

But what to read next? There are so many choices! Drowning Ruth? Middlesex? House of Sand and Fog? The English Patient? Nah. Not when I can read Ghost Ships of the Great Lakes instead!


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