I wrote nothing on Thursday and Friday, but I wrote 892 words yesterday and 978 today. That takes my average for the week up to where it should be, but I'm still not developing a habit. It's unlikely that I'll be doing anything habit-forming in the next several weeks, as I have a huge pile of work I need to shift before we leave for Hawaii for a few days of books, good food, beautiful scenery, exhilirating hikes and long naps.

My reading has been all over the place. I didn't mean to read Snowdrops; I was supposed to return it to the library. I forgot to pack a book to read that day, though, and so wound up reading the entire novel. Since it's on the Booker Prize short list, I'm glad I did. I'm also reading The Bible Repairman and Other Stories by Tim Powers, at a rate of about a story a day -- he's such a shock to the system that it's better to read Powers slowly and with great relish. And I started The Closers by Michael Connelly, mostly because his new Harry Bosch novel arrived last week and I'm several novels behind in the series. Nothing gives me more pleasure than intense reading.