"Fun" reading...

1 September 2019: "...in the very act of turning away I knew he would have run after me and hopped in the car if laughing if I asked one last time. / But I didn't. And, in truth, it was maybe better that I didn't--I say that now, though it was something I regretted bitterly for a while. More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I'd stopped myself from blurting the thing on the edge of my tongue, the thing I'd never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying it out loud to him in the street--which was, of course, I love you." --Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

Working my way through this almost 800-page tome, which has sat on my nightstand for at least four years, I am reminded why reading "just for fun" happens so much less than it did when I was younger. Like so many things I enjoy, I cannot stop myself once I get started.

Well, no matter that. I am working on getting back to it more regularly. It's good for me, I think.

As for this book, which I started on Tuesday evening: I am trying to get it done before the movie opens. At this point, I am feeling pretty good about achieving that goal, since I am on page 409 and about to dive back in.

So far, I find it utterly captivating. It's slow at times, but not in a bad way. More like I just want to push through so I can see what happens next, but even as I do, I want to slow down for the rich details. I've read Tartt's other two books and find this one much more sentimental (need a better word here, I know) and moving.