Picking a Book

I have this kind of weird thing going on in terms of deciding what to read. I have a huge stack of books that I have accumulated over years (bought--otherwise the library fines would wipe me out). There are probably at least 100. So when I need a book to read, I go through the stack. Some books have been in the stack since it was made up of three books. Some only sit in the stack for a few days, calling my name until I HAVE to read them.

Sometimes I will wake up in the morning and know that it is time for me to read a book that has been hanging around for five years or so. There is nothing else to it--I have to read that particular book right away. I recently picked up "The Green Mile" by Stephen King. It had been on the shelf for at least five years. Heck--maybe ten--I probably bought it when the movie came out in 1999. What a treat; it was one of the best books I ever read. But I couldn't read it until the time was right.

Right now I am reading James Lee Burke--some books in the Dave Robicheaux series. I used to read those books and suddenly stopped. I even know when, I can tell by the books that are on the unread shelf: 2002. For some reason I lost interest in Dave's adventures at that time. But not forever, as I am working to catch up now and reading my third Dave Robicheaux novel in a row. I am up to his exploits in 2005.

There is no rhyme or reason in my reading choice that I can think of. It's an interesting phenomenon--always an adventure deciding what to read next.