With the wedding and the international move (no big deal), I realized that I haven't finished a book in months. I'm 4% behind in my GoodReads Challenge, which means I've got some serious catching-up to do. Fortunately, I'm now deeply infatuated with a series by Alexander McCall Smith called 44 Scotland Street, and when I start a series, I become deeply absorbed.
The trouble with these books is that I love the characters. I love them so much that I want to call on them, but apparently, they are not real people. It's especially frustrating when I read that they live nearby, and they frequent pubs I walk past daily. Just this morning, I found myself hunting for Stuart's red Volvo and wondering where Bruce's wine shop is.
And don't even get me started on the Isabel Dalhousie books. I would very much like to befriend Isabel, as I know we'd get on splendidly, discussing music and morals. I'd entertain her with some piano or musical saw concerts in the afternoons, and we'd solve mysteries by night. Apparently, she, too, is a character in a novel and not a potential friend.
Perhaps I should just post a Friends: Wanted ad on Gumtree. Or perhaps Mr. Alexander McCall Smith, himself, is in need of a musical saw player some afternoon? Or maybe the Really Terrible Orchestra needs a saw player/accordionista/pianist/yodeler?
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