Bookworm

I was doing dishes yesterday morning (have I mentioned how much I hate hate HATE our dishwasher and how tired I am of doing 90% of our dishes by hand?) when Jemma came into the kitchen to climb my legs. "Jemma, go get a book!" I said, just on the off-chance that she might be distracted by that, or any other thing, for long enough for me to finish. And what did she do but march straight to her room and come back with "Curious George and the Bunny," plop down on the kitchen floor, and start paging through. She got stalled at the part where George, having let the baby bunny run away, sits sadly in the grass; "Uh-oh," she said, over and over, pointing to George's sad face. "All gone. Uh-oh." But she finally made it to the end of the book, closed it triumphantly, and said, "Okay!" before running off to get another one. By the time I was done with the dishes, she had made her way through "Good Dog, Carl," "Go, Dog, Go!," "The Big Red Barn," and "Five Little Monkeys." I was happy to have the dishes done, but I was even more glad to see her, really for the first time, choose to spend time with books. It's one of my few, specific hopes for my children - that they enjoy reading, that they see how it can transport them to new places and teach them so many things.

Speaking of books, I am in desperate need of a few good ones. The last two I had from the library were terrible in a "how-could-this-have-been-published?" kind of way; I actually returned them without finishing them, which is a rarity for me. I ask a lot of a book. Good writing is just as important to me as a good plot. I've already read my book club's next-month's selection, and nothing much at the library appealed. So, I ask you, many readers: What should I be reading during these dog days of summer? Anything you've loved, recently or long-ago? Send suggestions my way, please!