There's something so rewarding about finishing a book the same day you buy it. Almost like keeping a promise to yourself -- made, worked at, and then completed -- all within the memory space of a day. No hanging obligations to wake up to. No dread or guilt or growing pile in the corner.
*magic*
I read two books today. I cheated -- I traveled backward in time 5 hours and reclaimed each and every one of those extra hours for book cramming. The cheating was an unnecessary, preemptive precaution: I still have another 5 hours until today is officially done with.
Two books for today: H is for Hawk by Helen MacDonald and Yes Please by one Amy Poehler. I've been wanting to read H for months and was beyond thrilled when the Heathrow airport had it on the shelf. Amy Poehler's book was a chance encounter -- and at "buy one get one half off" hard to pass up.
Amy's book was delightful, though quite par for the course in the self-deprecating, life-celebratory memoir category. Definitely worthwhile.
The Hawk book, also a memoir, was far more ascetic and personalized. Well written, with a clear story arc than Poehler's, but lacking some of the jolting wit. They're not fair comparisons, but it's hard to keep from making what with their temporal proximity and categorical similarity. The images in hawk are so vivid that it's not a book I feel I'll read again -- the mental portrait I have of the author and her hawk have been indelibly inscribed on my memory.
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