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This year, for my birthday, my father told me that my present would be a trip to a bookstore, where I would wander the aisles, pick out everything I wanted, and he would buy it for me. I told him it was an ill-advised gift, but did he listen? No.

Anyway, we didn't get around to making this pilgrimage until the day before yesterday (Saturday, August 13). But, man, a monster was unleashed. The kind of monster who fills a massive bag completely with books and watches with a sort of heady guilt as her father buys her an obscene amount of reading material, much of which she knows she won't read imminently. Some of which she probably won't read ever.

But my excitement over The Big Haul, coupled with my excitement over the first of the Big Haul books I read, The Polysyllabic Spree by Nick Hornby, has prompted me to begin a reading journal. I will make an entry about every book I read. At least until I forget or stop. I will tell you, my reader(s), what I thought. I will relate amusing/intriguing quotations. I will, perhaps, prompt you to empty your wallet and fill your mind. Well, if I manage one out of two, I'll be pleased.

I will friend anyone who friends me, but I will only reliably read my friends page on my other journal, where there is no such policy. So it'll be pretty meaningless. Just to let you know.

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