I’m off to San Francisco on Wednesday morning to visit my sister for a few days. What shall I bring to read? My idea of hell is being stuck on some sort of transit with absolutely nothing to read. I’m serious. I always have a book on me. This is something my friends tease me about, but I’ll never stop doing it. I find there are always a few minutes each day in between things—riding the train to work, waiting at the doctors office, sitting outside for a few minutes while getting coffee—when a book comes in handy.
I’ve already started compiling a list of possibilities: The Savage Detectives by Robert Bolano, Life and Fate by Vassily Grossman, The Yiddish Policeman’s Union by Michael Chabon, The Death and Life of Great American Cities by Jane Jacobs, Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, The Broken Estate by James Wood. That’s what I have so far. Am I missing something obvious? Any suggestions?