I can’t believe it’s been September since I last posted. I certainly didn’t mean to take that long to make a decision on blogging. At present, I plan to continue but not with quite the same focus as before. I’m still going to be commenting on my favorite pastime of reading but I may also play with a couple of other topics, too. I’m still feeling my way about those however, so we shall see.
And on the topic of reading, one of the reasons I decided to dive back into blogland today is that Kristie (J) got me to thinking the other day with her blog on lost authors. I’m still trying to figure out why I was so convinced that Eve Byron had a new book out this year . . . when Readerware shows me plainly that the last one I got by her was published in 1999.
???
Anyway, after reading Kristie’s post I started pondering not so much those lost authors specifically but the other ones that make a big impression on us that we don’t always continue to follow even though they are publishing new stuff. You know, as opposed to those that we can’t get enough of, that we obsess over, wail about when there isn’t a new book out, etc. Ahem. Well, you get the idea.
The author’s I’m talking about here are the ones where we read one book that’s really great or at least impressive and then we loose interest. Or the next book we try by them just doesn’t in any way impress at all and we don’t look for more. And then time passes. Yet, somewhere in the back of our minds is this little niggling thought that maybe we should check them out again.
If we could only remember who they were . . .
Okay, I realize that every author out there is cringing right about now but, be honest, am I really the only reader that’s had this experience? Usually, I can remember the story, somewhat, or at least those things about it that made such an impression, but just can’t always come up with a name for the author. And as the years pass it gets harder and harder to make those connections and it’s not always about my memory failing. Talk about your lost authors. (G)