NINE BELLS winter books

A weird habit I’ve settled into over the last few years. I save the difficult books, the long books and the old books for winter. There’s something about the long evenings that makes me withdraw into filling in the gaps in my reading – the collected Joseph Conrad, the Shakespeare I haven’t gotten to, another crack at the wonderful but exhausting MOBY DICK – and the deep books that rewards hours-long sittings. Winter’s breath was upon the air this morning. Jack Frost is clearing his throat, and now I’m thinking about clearing the fireplace and arranging the winter books.