...and suddenly I remembered that I had a blank journal that could still be dusted off and used for this sort of thing. So why not?
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One of the books I ordered from Amazon came today - with relative speed, considering that I ordered it from the seller on the 16th! - and I'm filled with all sorts of bibliophilic glee. It's a collection of short stories by Colm Tóibín titled, The Empty Family, and I'm very keen on reading it because he's one of my favorite writers and has been since I picked up a copy of Love in a Dark Time in India some eight years ago. His take on queer themes not withstanding, his yen for Henry James is all sorts of marvelous (which reminds me that I need to pick up where I left off with The Master), though I'm admittedly a sucker for anything Jamesian. I also seem to enjoy it when contemporary writers have an afinity for literary figures/traditions of the past.