The sky to the southeast is just turning gray, and morning is on its way. I've been up for a while. Since we returned to Colorado Springs on Monday, I haven't had a lot of time for my personal e-mail and such. This morning I've been catching up, deleting lots of issues of online pubs from the Washington Post and Pajamas Media, answering the occasional e-mail from a real person, putting a few things on Facebook, and working the blog.
I have removed from the Current Reading list all of the books I finished in November 2009. The list isn't growing yet, as I'm still trying to finish Michael Cox's Victorian thriller The Meaning of Night. Years ago, a friend and I played a war game which nearly captured the mind-numbing boredom of siege warfare. Cox is trying for the feel of a Victorian novel, but he doesn't seem to know that most Victorian novels were really bad. Aside from Dickens and Wilkie Collins, and, of course, Kipling, the writing of the period is affected, verbose, and imprecise. The Meaning of Night has its points, and I intend to finish reading it, but I can't honestly recommend it to anyone.
I received quite a number of books for Christmas, so the reading list will inevitably begin to recover.
Glenn A Knight
In my study
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