I tend to accidentally avoid the ‘Classics’ shelf on my bookcase because they are older books and most of them are the hardcover fancy pants kind so I leave it be.
Which is a mistake because then I never get anywhere with my classic writers.
So I spent an evening one day going through and putting my bookshelf in order of how I want to read it. Which meant that instead of having my shelf go:
Shakespeare, Classics, Specials (Ie. J.K. Rowling and Tolkien.) and then miscellaneous nonsense, it now goes: Specials, Organized in how I want to read them, Oops I bought Too Many Books at a sale and Now I’m Just shoving Things Places.
And my closet has all the other books that I’ve read before so that I won’t be tempted to reread books again.
Admittedly, I’ve been on a book series craze for the last year. Starting with Games of Thrones, going through The Women of the Otherworld, and finally landing on the Percy Jackson series.
So! I decided that I should probably pound out some individual books so that I’m not only reading series’.
So here I am reading a C.S. Lewis book that I thought was going to be about divorce and it turned out that it was about deciding to go to Heaven or Hell and can you tell which place is which?
I couldn’t. I probably would’ve ended up in Hell, it sounded more fun.
It was short, a bit all over the place with it’s information and what each place was like, didn’t get very wild (you would think Hell would have nudity and rock music and Ozzy Osbourne greeting you at the door. Oh wait, he’s not dead. Whoops.) and was just okay in my book.
I probably won’t read it again, and weirdly enough, it made me miss Narnia.
I will not read another book series. I will not read another books series.
At least not one I’ve already read.