I should be writing this week. I really should be writing.
But ... I've been on the library waiting list for the newest mystery by Susan Wittig Albert, Mourning Gloria, and even though I swore I'd just read the first chapter, it's simply too good to put down.
And then my daughter received a gift card to Borders for her birthday, and while we were there this book called to me - called to me, I swear - from the shelf. It's titled Skirting the Grave by Annette Blair ... and, well, now, it's on my bedside table.
AND well, it is summer, and summer means there are tables upon tables of clearance books. I considered it an exercise in restraint I just picked up one bargain, a novel titled The Christmas Cookie Club by Ann Pearlman. And no, it's not anywhere near Christmas, but hey, when it's this hot you do what you can to cool down, right?
Now believe it or not, there's a message on my machine that the new Carolyn Hart mystery I've been waiting for is in.
It's an embarrassment of riches, actually.
Which is kind of a shame.
Because I really, really need to be writing this week.