I read a lot. Always have. I will, in fact, read just about *anything*. (Upside down memos on my boss’s desk and the backs of cereal boxes included.) It’s almost a compulsion. If I haven’t read something decent in a while I feel funky. Now, I’m not independently wealthy, so this means I spend a lot of time in libraries.

I didn’t realize, growing up, just what I great local library I had. (The Sussex County main branch was seven miles from my house. It rocked.) I thought every town had a decently funded library with a great selection of new and classic sci-fi, a large travel section, a good selection of soundtracks on CD and LP, and a new releases section that was updated on a bi-weekly basis.

I was wrong. With a few notable exeptions (The snooty rich towns, mostly) the Bergen County library system comes up as just adequate. Not that most folks would think it sucks - I think it’s more that I grew up with a really exceptional library, so I’ve got some tough expectations. Hell, my standards are high enough that I will (when I can) drive an hour and a quarter each way just to use my old library. It might be out in the boonies, but they’ve got quality.

But… now and then I *do* find something decent locally. And boy did I ever. Henry’s List of Wrongs. Possibly the best thing I’ve read in two years. The characters are interesting. They’re human. Everyone fucks up at least once. The plot itself pulls you in and then spins you about in a direction you might not see coming. The writing itself, just the pure art of the phrasing and sentence structure…. gorgeous.

I plan on finding everything the author has written and devouring it.