To Read Or Not To Read - That Is The Question

Once again, I find myself reading, what is for me anyway, a "slow starter". Based on hoopla alone, I have faith that things will improve. Nevertheless, I am only on page 75 of my present read - and I started it on Monday. I debated whether I should put it down and pick up something else on my self-inflicted TBR list. As it does so often in my life, coincidence intervened. When I was leaving my subdivision this morning, I noted on our "board" that the neighborhood book club was reading The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. I took it as a sign and made the decision to persevere. In my wavering, however, I ran my hand across the spines of some of the books in my library last night. It settled on The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie, and I remembered what a sheer pleasure it was to read. There was no plodding along with that one! I am always amazed how Christie can tell a riveting story with such an economy of words, notwithstanding all the twists and turns and puzzles. Not high literature, to be sure, but Roger Ackroyd is absolute joy (which is why I read). As for the ending, I never saw it coming; it smacked me right between the eyes. Delicious.