Friday, December 28, 2007
“One of these days, I’ll read One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I started it twice, but the story didn’t grab me. That’s not the novel’s fault. I believe there’s a secret timing as to when a book is right for a person. There will come an afternoon, as friends have promised, when I’ll fall into that strange world, its ghosts, its twists with time. Such a thing is inevitable. My favorite books are those that question and bend what is real, whatever real is.”
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