The Quiche of Death

Some people post every hour during a readathon, carefully tracking pages read, minutes read.    I doubt I could keep track of minutes read.   I read for an hour, but I did a few other things, too.   No idea how many minutes that was of actual reading, but it was the last 23 pages of the first Agatha Raisin mystery.    And I’m definitely disappointed.   Agatha is rather silly and stupid.   I guess it’s supposed to be funny the policeman dragging her out the window by her hair, but it was decidedly not amusing me.   Plus she microwaved an entire frozen chocolate cake (which she’d stolen) – how would that turn out?   Awful, I should think.   I’ll probably read the next one, as they came as a set and they might get better.   Trouble is, my taste in mysteries was formed by Agatha Christie – I want a detective who investigates, who’s intelligent, who is at no point in mortal danger.    I also like them cozy – no rape, no torture, minimal drugs, certainly no trafficking, but not too cozy.   The Carsley Ladies’ Society is a bit too cozy.

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What the world needs now

is another blog like I need a hole in my head, but I’ve been reading these book blogs and looking at the 24 hour readathon and thinking I might try that.   It seems like you have to have your own blog to do that, though probably you don’t really.   Also, I don’t think I want to wait until October and I have tomorrow off, so I thought I would do a practice one, just me, myself & I reading a bunch for the next 24 hours and see how I do.   It is almost 10 pm here, so that will be my start time.

[Wordpress is recommending To the Lighthouse as a tag for this post.   Perhaps I should read that?]