It's been months since I've read an intellectually challenging book. That's why I borrowed Nobel prize-winner Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "Love in the Time of Cholera" from the library. It's an amazing book, which I'll start right after I finish reading Jeff Smith's "Bone: The Great Cow Race." And the new Sandman book by Neil Gaiman. After avoiding the book gym for several months, I can't jump back in pressing 450. Especially since my membership to the analogy gym expired last February.
My goal is to undertake a diet of successively complex picture books, move on to "The Early History of Comic Books," work out with some Dave Barry, kick it up to Steve Martin, followed by Norton's Anthology of Science Fiction, Norton's Anthology of Science Fiction for Adults, at which point my brain will be as absorbent and flexible as a pizza crust kneaded by Stephen Hawking ("WHEELCHAIR: FORWARD. WHEELCHAIR: BACK. WHEELCHAIR: FORWARD...") and ready to take on the pus-filled pleasures of "Love in the Time of Cholera."
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