A Request

I'm deep, deep, deep into deadline number three--and number four, the final deadline, comes fast on its heels. So don't expect much from me in the near future. Certainly, don't expect anything of substance.

Still, I have a request. For you. Yes, you. The only thing that's keeping me sane right now is occasionally playing in my mind with all the things I'm going to do once I again have time, glorious time. Time to spend with my kids, and time to spend with my husband, and time to spend--gasp--with myself, doing things I enjoy, or doing nothing at all. Near the top of the list is reading. Reading a book. A book that's not about bipolar disorder. A book that's not about anything I'm supposed to be reading about. A book that I'm going to enjoy. SEVERAL books that I'm going to enjoy. Heck, I have something on the order of $100 in gift certificates to Borders, Amazon and Barnes & Noble burning a hole in my pockets, both real and cyber. Which is where the request comes in.

What should I buy? I have a couple of books sitting waiting for me--Gabriel Garcia Marquez's autobiography, a collection of short stories by a Native American writer whose name presently escapes me. I like memoirs, and I like fiction. I'm not a big fan of sci fi or thrillers or detective novels in general, though if there's a compelling reason, I'll give it a whirl. I'd prefer to spend the money on paperbacks, unless there's some book I simply MUST own (like the Marquez autobiography), and I don't care about reading a book the minute it hits the market and the best-seller lists or whatever. So...who are your favorite authors? What's the best book you've read recently? What's your all-time favorite? What should I run screaming from at all costs?

In return, I give you this piece of advice. Carrie Fisher's latest, "The Best Awful," is, well, awful. No best about it. I was reading it because it's a thinly-veiled account of Fisher's own battle with bipolar, and I was hoping to find bits and pieces to include in the book (with permission of the author and publisher, of course). Besides, I love Carrie Fisher, and loved Postcards from the Edge, which I actually read well before seeing the movie. But, really, this thing is so absolutely painful, so poorly written, so...It's a huge disappointment, is all. Don't waste your money.

Now, pony up. I need ideas, folks. I need something to hang my impatient little hat on for the next few weeks while everything goes to heck and I try to meet the Impossible Deadline.

Tanks. I preciate it.