So recently, my husband and I completed what had damn well better be the last in a far-too-lengthy series of moves and relocations. In the process of unpacking for what had damn well better be the last time, I discovered a massive quantity of fantasy and science fiction novels that I'd either bought and never read, or read and forgotten. And when I say "massive," I mean that there's a coffee table in the corner of my office where these books sit, but I can really only speculate about said coffee table's continued existence, what with all the books covering and surrounding it. It might have turned into a very small triceratops. I have no way of knowing.

Anyway, surveying the pile of books perched atop my coffee table/triceratops, I realized that I had been hauling some of these books from house to house and apartment to apartment for years. I further realized that this was silly. Therefore, it became my mission to plow through them; if my reading list seems heavily skewed toward the speculative, that would be why. What I've discovered so far is that some of them are good, some of them are bad, and most of them are perfectly acceptable examples of whatever it is they're trying to be. At this point, I'm finally starting to make a dent, and so I feel like it's okay to occasionally throw in a non-triceratops-table book. Also, I'm really looking forward to reading a book where a nice lady meets a nice man and they fall in love and get a nice dog, and nobody turns into Cthulu.

Yeah. That'd be nice.