Sunday, March 27, 2005

After Saturday

by Ian McEwan, comes The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. No rhyme or reason to the selection, just practicality: I needed something portable to tuck into my bag for the daily pilgrimage to Starbucks, and I know Kidd's second novel will be published soon.

I loved Saturday, by the way, even though those pages on the racket ball game were indeed hard to get through. The rest of the book was a pleasure, though, a true window into another person's consciousness. I strongly disagree with Deirdre Donahue's review of Saturday in Thursday's USA Today, when she called it "a chore to read." But then again, what else could you expect from a review that starts "Few writers can sustain excellence, particularly if they publish more than one book a decade"?

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