Confessions of a hermit

By now you must be thinking ... hmmm, she went about two weeks without hardly showing signs of life, and now she's writing about every day. Must be going through a boring streak.

Actually no, it's just that I was thoroughly indulging in my hermit-ness thanks to this dang book series that has me turning down all things humanely social. Thanks to the fantastic digital librarian/bookstore "if you liked X book, you might like Y book" recommendations, I recently stumbled upon the Outlander series, by Diana Gabaldon ... and have been so totally, entirely, embarrassingly sucked into them I hesitate to even mention it publicly.

Impressive considering that, even at 1000+ pages a pop the story is not repetitive in the least, these suckers are the kind of books where you stay up until 3AM reading because you can't put it down and, in my pathetic case, forgo walking to and from work just so you can get that extra 40 minutes of reading time on the bus. Pathetic, I know.

To my credit, though, I have been pacing myself ... self-imposing a minimum two-week wait between books so as to regain some sense of social propriety and get in at least a couple of half-way nutritional meals before delving into the next one in the series. Only problem now is my book "supplier" / co-worker / co-Outlander addict and I have gotten up to book four ... and now have to wait until the next visitor of North American origin comes to import the last three of the seven-book series. (Any volunteers?)

Ok, enough of the nerdiness already. But really, if you liked The time traveller's wife and haven't read these, you're missing out ...