It’s funny how things happen sometimes.
Take the whole cooking thing around here, for example. Cooking always felt like a chore to me, but hey, if I didn’t do it, who would, right? And then, about eight or nine years ago, out of the blue, my husband Ward said he’d like to try cooking Saturday night’s dinner. I, of course (but of course!) immediately said yes. And somehow that first Saturday became every Saturday and then suddenly he was cooking most of the meals.
I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I oh so quietly yielded the keys to the kitchen to him and slipped away to the nearest sofa with a good book.
It was a big change, and I took it in stride. And now another big change has happened.
Back in February, I posted about how Ward and I were starting a book club of two. I’d read an article about how relationships are greatly improved when couples make an effort to experience each other’s hobbies. Ward and I discussed it, and we decided I’d start going to more of the music-type things he likes doing, and he would start reading some of the books I was reading.
At first, we were fairly evenly matched. We both read Haruki Murakami’s The Strange Library (I enjoyed it, he didn’t), and then we read S.J. Bolton’s debut novel, Sacrifice, which we both enjoyed. From there, he read Bolton’s Awakening and I, well, I started feeling a little behind. I read Awakening while he polished off Five Children on the Western Front.
Feeling the pressure now, I decided to borrow Bolton’s Blood Harvest from the library again; I’d read it the previous month, so having him read it gave me a bit of a reprieve while I finished Neil Gaiman’s Trigger Warning, which he’d started but wasn’t that interested in. I finally managed to finish Five Children on the Western Front and he blazed through Blood Harvest. It turned out, it wasn’t much of a reprieve.
While I found myself busy with Pet Sematary for the readalong, he decided to try Murakami’s After Dark, which Ti had recommended to me as a good book for getting into Murakami. And despite not having liked The Strange Library, Ward absolutely loved After Dark.
Since he finished it, he’s been asking me if I’ve started it yet. Which I haven’t. But I did put two more Murakami books on hold for him.
He was twiddling his thumbs, eyeing all the books we had around, so I suggested he read Norwegian by Night.
He finished it yesterday.
And now I’m two books behind, in our little book club of two.
What kind of book-reading demon have I created?!
Obviously the only way out of this dilemma is to hand him books I’ve already read. Never fear, I’ve already thought of that. I have American Gods and The Martian all ready for him. My only problem? He’s probably going to want to read more Murakami first.