Over the past few years, my reading habits have gradually increased. After college, I never read for leisure, and now, I can't go to sleep at night until I've read a few pages to help me unwind after a long day. I stick mostly to modern fiction, while throwing in a biography here and there. My "Books Read" pile is slowly growing, but my "Books Bought" pile always seems to be growing, too. (It's good to know I'm not the only one with this problem.)
One of the great things about travelling by train (or plane) is all the useful reading time either on the train or stuck at a station. Most recently, while roaming around with Ben and crew, I started Michael Chabon's "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh." Usually, while travelling, I'll alternate between reading a few chapters, listening to my iPod, and staring out the window. But there was something about this book--maybe how well I related to the main character, maybe the interesting dialogue, maybe because it's just so damn good. I started it on the train to Florence Wednesday and finished it just as I was pulling into Sacile Saturday night. It's by far the fastest I've ever read a novel. I'm not sure what I'm going to read next, but I'll be heading to bed in a little while, so I'd better decide soon.