I have, in fact, read this summer. But not in an adventuresome sort of way. I'm facing another deadline, and I've been rather desperately grabbing for comfort reading. Re-reads, mostly. Lots of Elizabeth Goudge.
But don't feel sorry for me. Because I ignored some of that panic and read Elizabeth Goudge at Tanglewood.
Mozart. Mahler. Film Night. The Mark Morris Dance Company. And, in one final joyous evening, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me.
I didn't read much that night! And now I'm sort of crushing on Emanuel Ax. Because he was charming, funny, and humble.