The original guilty pleasure that I allowed myself in life was losing myself in a book. At that time, it was any book that caught me. It didn't matter whether it was fiction, non-fiction, paperback, hard cover, brand-new or musty.
Lots of years between then and my current reality. One absolute parallel is the joy I feel when I am able to turn my attention to the words of another human being as they craft an intimate dance of imagining.
One of the gentlest, quietest souls I know asked me for a simple thing: a list of books I have read and found important. I've always wanted to do this... The gentle, quiet young man's request is what has tipped me off the fence of analysis paralysis (my ever-present limiter).
So.... This blog is titled "8 o'clock somewhere" because... well... it's 8 o'clock somewhere. Others relish the thought of it being 5 o'clock somewhere so they can dive into the guilty pleasure of a liquid sort. For me, the happy, self-interested time comes when I slide under my cozy covers and open my book.
Here's my list, gentle young man. Hope you like it...
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