Wish I Could Find a Good Book to Live In

I'm in one of my periodic spells of just not being able to find a book I like.  Believe me, I've tried.  I've tried good books - The Book Thief by Markus Zuzak; and bad books - Big Girl, by Danielle Steel.  I started Anne of Ingleside by L.M. Montgomery, because I like the Anne series, but even that's failing me.  So what's a reader to do?

This isn't the first time this has happened to me.  I've had dry spells before.  I don't finish books I don't like, but when the unfinished books start piling up, I'm in trouble.  I don't know if it's me, if I'm tired of reading, or if I'm just hitting a bad patch.  Probably both.

What makes it so tough is that fiction is my addiction of choice.  That might sound like a joke, but it isn't.  I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have books to escape to.  I'm not denying reality.  I watch the news and read the paper and keep up on what's going on.  And, as you know, what's going on is usually pretty grim.  That's why I read, and write, the kind of books I do.  I don't need to read about real life.  I live it.  Let me get away from it once in a while.

When this happens I get leery of trying something new, so I've picked up an old reliable, Rex Stout.  I enjoy his Nero Wolfe books, and since I rarely remember the solution to the mystery, I can reread them without much trouble.  I haven't picked the best of his titles, but at least they're readable.  Hopefully they'll get me through.

I hope this doesn't go on much longer, because it's lousy.  If I can't find something good to read, I might have to take drastic action.  Since no one seems to be writing a book I want to read, I might just have to write one myself.