I am in the middle of two books: Ballad by Maggie Stiefvater (almost done) and Nurtureshock by Po Bronson and Ashley Merriman (chapter 3, but I've reread the first two chapters at least three times each). But that's not what I'm writing about in this blog. No, tonight's topic is the book I forgot.
Over Christmas break, I indulged in my favorite habit: I tucked myself under a blanket and I read, and read, and read. I read on the couch, I read at the kitchen table, and I read in my bed. I read so much that it was hard for me to remember all that I read, which is possibly why I forgot to blog about the first book that I finished in 2010: Notes from the Midnight Driver by Jordan Sonnenblick. I thought this was going to be just a silly book about a kid who does something dumb and spends the book trying to figure out how to fix it. In the opening chapter, he gets drunk for the first time and "kills" a lawn gnome. Silly, right? Only, this was not a silly book! It was great. I really, really liked it. And although it wasn't silly, it was very funny. And did I mention great? And even though it was funny, I also cried at the end, because in addition to being funny and great, it was also real and true and honest, and just the littlest bit sad.
Now, to be fair, I did not read the whole book in 2010, but I finished it on January 1, shortly after midnight. Yes, that's right, I brought in the new year with my family and my closest friends, then I excused myself to read as soon as I could politely leave them. I love them a lot! But after ringing in the new year with the people I love, I did the thing I love: I snuggled into my bed, under the covers, and I finished my book. Wahooooo!