Because I'm off to a whole new place, I'm bringing along some whole new books. I went through my Goodreads to-read list, picked the most intriguing looking ones, and requested them from my library.
I'll introduce the first two out of order, because they have a humorous backstory, complete with a tale of heroic bravery. I've been swamped the past few days getting everything ready for camp, in addition to preparing for my sister's graduation party, so I wasn't able to get to the library before today. I was irked to realize that two of my holds had expired: Crimson Bound, by Rosamund Hodge, and The Moorchild, by Eloise Jarvis McGraw. I was even more irked because they were both still in the library, which meant instead of writing them off as lost, I was obliged to search for them.
The library catalog assured me that Crimson Bound was on the shelf. It was not. So I stumped up to the library help desk, which, as an unsocialized homeschooler, I generally avoid doing.
Librarian: How can I--
Me: Your catalog lied.
Librarian: Ah, what--
Me: Crimson Bound. Rosamund Hodge. Find it.
(For the record, yes, there is a lot of artistic license in this dramatic retelling. I would never actually talk to someone like that. At least, not for Crimson Bound.)
But even worse, The Moorchild had been safely returned to its home in the most frightening, most dangerous section of the library.
Don't get me wrong; I was a massive reader as a youngster, and I haunted those bitty little shelves. But now I am five years older and six inches taller, and I cannot go anywhere near that section without feeling like everyone in the building is judging my taste in books. Especially those kid readers hanging around. I swear, when I was their age, I did not have such judgy eyes.
Reader, I almost renewed my request on the book. But at the last possible moment, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders-- and made a cowardly dash through children's fiction.
And that is how I ended up with Crimson Bound, by Rosemond Hodge, and The Moorchild, by Eloise McGraw. Here's hoping they're worth it.
The rest of the list is less adventurous. We have The Paper Magician, by Charlie N. Holmberg, which I had to get because of the silhouette on the cover. I expected it to be longer. We'll see how this goes.
Next is The Eagle of the Ninth, by Rosemary Sutcliff, which Ghost Ryter recommended to me. I swore up and down that I had never read Sutcliff before-- until I remember that I had and hadn't loved it. Still, I'm sure this one will be great.
Then comes Illusionarium, by Heather Dixon. I adored her retelling of the Twelve Dancing Princesses, Entwined, and thus wanted to read this, but reviewers pretty unanimously agree that it's not as good. I'm taking that with a grain of salt.
The massive brick at the bottom is The Silmarillion, by J. R. R. Tolkien. Hannah William's awesome artwork (which I encourage you to view here) finally inspired me to tackle this.
And my Bible, which is making the journey to camp with me both for moral support and so I can truck on with my reading of it. I'm stuck in the Wisdom of Solomon, which is endlessly beautiful and wise and interesting but sooo long, and the end is nowhere in sight. I never thought the Book of Sirach would look so attractive.
So there you have it, my readers! The seven books accompanying me to camp. I barely read anything at camp last year, but I did finish the first draft of Hespera there, so I'm hoping to be productive in both reading and writing this year. And who knows? Perhaps I'll post a snippet of my work-in-progress... which involves fairies, danger, and sheep. So many sheep.
I've scheduled blog posts for June 19 and 26, then July 3, 10, and 17, and I hope-- hope being the key word here-- that I'll have time to post about my various adventures. Rest assured that I'll be thinking of you. I'll likely be slow to respond to comments, so I conclude this post with both a request for patience and a request for prayers while I'm away.
Blessings, dear readers! I'll see you soon!