My first conversation with Mike, my British husband of 20 years, was about Jane Austen. We were immediately drawn to each other because of our shared love of literature. I introduced him to Alice Walker, John Irving, and many other American writers, and he introduced me to Paul Theroux, Tom Robbins, Charles Dickens, and Salman Rushdie, among others. While traveling together, we swapped our paperbacks. Over the years, we have recommended and given countless books to each other…while also knowing which types of books not to recommend based on the other person’s taste. If Mike doesn’t like a book, I’m less inclined to read it (and vice versa). He didn’t care much for The Life of Pi, so I still have not gotten around to reading it! On the other hand, he liked the Yiddish Policemen’s Union much more than I did.

Reading Lemony Snicket to Kieran

A few days ago, he started The Hunger Games, and he hasn’t been able to put it down. Usually he will read in bed and fall asleep, book held in mid-air. Last night at 11:15, he regretfully put the book down–only 40 pages to go. I spoke to him a few hours ago, and not only had he finished the book, but he’s already started on Catching Fire! We have Mockingjay out from the library, and it’s due in several days. He’s determined to read it before then. I think it will be another late night again…