Oh, I've done it again. I've lost a whole weekend to reading. Does this ever happen to you? Aside from my usual weekend activities (volunteering at the animal shelter, attending ballet class, shopping for groceries, and of course, taking care of Izzy and Maisie), I've been reading constantly since Friday evening.
For one thing, I finally finished The Story of Edgar Sawtelle.
I lost the rest of the weekend to reading Holly Black's trilogy, Tithe, Valiant, and Ironside, continuing my teen paranormal streak.
The supernatural beings featured in the series are faeries, but not of the Tinkerbell variety. They are a much darker race, living in modern-day New York, organized into endlessly warring factions and cruelly disdainful of humans.
The books have received critical acclaim, and the writing is indeed excellent. Ms. Black's villains are breathtakingly evil and gruesomely creative in their misdeeds. Her descriptions of creatures either beautiful or repulsive and of settings squalid or chilling are wonderfully evocative.
The main characters--a pixie, a faerie knight, a noble troll, as well as a few troubled human teenagers--are the most fascinating sort, flawed and yet heroic, so that one cannot help but keep reading to find out what happens to them. As I proved by reading Valiant and Ironside all in one day, today.
When I haven't indulged in this sort of reading gluttony for a while, I find that the effect is rather like accruing a huge sleep debt and then finally succumbing. I fall deep into the world of books. When I reach the end of the novel(s) and am forced to rejoin reality, I'm always mildly disoriented, part of my mind still inhabiting the fictional world, feeling a bit guilty for all of the time lost, and yet rejuvenated in an essential way.