When I surf around the Internet, I’m always amazed at the books other literary bloggers manage to read. Although I pick up a book every day, I often feel inadequate because I don’t get through enough books and my choices aren’t always “quality” literature. As examples, Patrick of Litblog has finished 29 books so far in 2006, and his list makes me feel like a real dummy since I only recognize a handful of the titles. Mental multivitamin’s most recent “on the nightstand” post features eight books currently in process around the house. And I’d never be able to converse books with Conversational Reading since I haven’t read a one from his massive list of 41 recently read titles.

So far in 2006, I’ve finished 30 books. A decent number, but 13 of them were children’s books, including the last seven from A Series of Unfortunate Events, and didn’t require a whole lot of mental processing. The rest of them weren’t very highbrow, although I did manage to get through A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce and was reminded why I never finished it in high school. I suppose I should just get over it. But I think you can tell a lot about a person by what they read, so I wonder what assumptions some might make about me from my book list.

I wandered around the house this morning and found the four books I currently have in process:

Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem was sitting on my dining room table. I already read it once this year with the intention of using it for June’s abandoned discussion. During that reading, I dogeared a bunch of pages to reference in questions and by now I can’t remember what I originally wanted to point out. My plan is to read it again and see if the dogears trigger any ideas. I haven’t been doing so well since I’m only on page 2.

How to Grow More Vegetables by John Jeavons has found a home on the coffee table. It was a gift from a friend who thought it would give me some gardening ideas, so I’ve been kicking around a plan to begin composting.

The South Beach Diet by Arthur Agatston went from storage to kitchen counter after a particularly harsh encounter with the bathroom scale. When I tried the diet the first time, I didn’t lose any weight but didn’t gain any either. I did like the focus on vegetables and eliminating most pound-packing carbs, so I thought I’d give it a go again. However, this morning’s breakfast of Vegetable Quiche Cups to Go wasn’t very filling and I’m already thinking about what else is in the fridge.

The Life of Elizabeth I by Alison Weir was in bed. I don’t have a nightstand, so whatever I do before sleep turns into a bedmate. Other bedmates often include eyeglasses, TV remote, magazines, newspapers, and catalogs. This book was acquired with several others from Kate’s mom, and it fits well into the non-fiction trend I’ve been on recently. Sadly, I’m confused as hell. The narrative is more topical than chronological and I’ve bogged myself down with trying to figure out what happened when. Having to go back and reread is making it last forever, so I may need to sacrifice some understanding in the interest of time.

Hmm.