Well, I was to be at a training today and so I read a book instead (while I was paying deep attention to what was going on on the TV). Ross MacDonald's Sleeping Beauty. What a wonderful book. Deep and well written and covering thirty years of cover up, lies and twists. The actual way he puts the words together is as good as anything I've ever read. Of course, I'm far from the first one to recognize this.
I also just finished Bad Monkeys by Matt Ruff an incredible move through a parallel world where you can never be sure what is real and what isn't.
Which kind of makes the books I'm reading in this mystery book club I'm in kind of pale by comparison. Virgin of Small Plains, Down River, and Touchstone. All good workmanlike books, but none of them really reaching the heights and skill of the first two I mentioned.
Unfortunately, when I get a few minutes I go back to the Ross MacDonald books and I'm now reading them again. They go fast and the imagery is incredible. One of the problems with reading books that are that good on a regular basis is that it makes me feel that I might as well just shut up since I can't do as well. But after I think about it for a while, I allow the little bit of self awareness that I sometimes have to slip off and I go back to writing. Oh well, time for a little false humility.
Oh hey did the markets do anything today?
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