I got so excited discovering what books were on everyone else’s bed-stands (see My Weird Fixation on What People Read at Night) that I forgot to list what books are on my own. They are, right now:
“In the Compny of Cheerful Ladies” (#6 in the awesome “The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency” series) by Alexander McCall Smith
“Tears of the Giraffe” (#2 in the series above)
Three issues of “New Yorker” magazine
“Until I Find You,” by the incredible John Irving
The 6-volume Oxford Jane Austen set
“The Philosphy of Andy Warhol,” by Andy Warhol (which I’ve been reading almost nightly for 25 years)
“A Confederacy of Dunces,” by John Kennedy Toole (which I’ve been reading almost nightly for 25 years)
“The Princess Bride,” by William Goldman (which I’ve been reading almost nightly for 25 years)
“The Bhagavad GitaBhagavad-Gita: The Song of God,” translated by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood (which has been on my bed-stand for for 35 years)
“Why Christianity Must Change or Die,” by John Shelby Spong (which, for the record, I care little for)
“The House at Pooh Corner” by some English guy.
“Winnie the Pooh,” ditto.
“Selected Poems and Two Plays of William Butler Yeats” (I never know what he’s talking about)
“The Portable Faulkner” (I never know what he’s talking about)
“Holidays on Ice,” by David Sedaris
“The Milagro Beanfield War,” by John Nicols
“The Crisis of Islam,” by Bernard Lewis
And … there you have it!
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