Feast and Famine

When it comes to reading,  I find myself going through weird phases. Over the last month I've found myself in a traffic jam of fiction, feeling like I have more books to read than I have time for. I think this is largely due to two causes -

First, a struggle to finish Gerald Lund's The Undaunted, which was worth reading but difficult.  There's only so many plucky historical figures and covered wagons I can take at one time apparently.

Second, to the fact that I'm slogging through a lot of particularly thorny stuff for both the American West Center (which also features plucky historical figures and covered wagons) and for my dissertation.  After a day of sitting and reading for work and school, I tend to gravitate toward other hobbies. 

Now, normally, I check out 5 or 6 books and have them read well before I need to turn them in.  Right now I'm sitting on at least four books that are going to be coming due any minute, all of which I really want to read.  Also, three of my favorite authors (I think of them as the "M" trio -  McKinley, Marillier, and McKillip) are coming out with books which I have wisely put on my various Christmas lists.  These aren't just any books, but the kind that suck me in so fast I don't want to eat, sleep or breathe until they are finished.
In addition, my fiction "To Read" list has grown to over 30 titles.  

When I'm in the midst of this bounty of books, I find it baffling that there is ever a moment in my life when I feel like there is nothing decent to read.  Bizarre yes, but it happens all the time.  In fact just a few months ago, wandering wistfully and aimlessly through Barnes and Noble I had that very thought, which is why I started my "To Read" list in the first place.

However, I think I'm about to be back on my usual book gobbling track.  The book I'm currently reading, Dangerous Neighbors, is 170 pages and there isn't a covered wagon in sight :-)