I signed up for a library card the other day and immediately knew that I was going to spend a lot of time in coming months in the attic of the building. Ah, libraries. Why did I take so long to get that process underway?

(Um, I like to own my books.)

Free reading is glorious reading sometimes. Especially when I want to try to read a book that I think I’ll enjoy, but can’t quite be sure of. New writer, genre I don’t tend to frequent…I’ll give it a shot and return it if it doesn’t click.

Mystic River clicked.

I might be one of the last people in this area to try reading Dennis Lehane, but I was welcomed into the fold by the work. Having never seen the movie, I walked in to the whole thing pretty blind and was wrapped up in the plot before I knew it. I tore through this book and loved each moment of it.

What I like about Lehane’s effort here isn’t just that he wrote a gripping, engaging novel. What I like is that I read it knowing that he was going to surprise me somehow, but when that surprise came, I still kicked myself for being so blind. Of course, you moron. Way to go.

It feels so good sometimes to be so easily played with.

In terms of books, that is.

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