The writer Ann Leary has a rule for choosing novels: "I want a sociopath in the mix. Give me Patricia Highsmith, give me du Maurier. A story is best when it involves a knife-wielding maniac."
To that end, I chose several thrillers for vacation: "The Soulmate" (meh), "The Plinko Bounce" (hooray), "The Expat" (delightful). But I think too *many* killings can create a monotonous experience, so I threw in just a cup or two of "literary" fiction: "Blaming" (Taylor) and "Commitment" (Mona Simpson).
My spouse is more ambitious; he chose to read a lengthy biography of Abraham Lincoln, on the beach.
Time away meant that I could lick my wounds over a job situation that irritated me. On a related note, I work with a career coach who likes to allude to the old chestnut: A situation that won't bug you in five years is not a situation to dwell on...EVER.... That's not easy to internalize. I tend to think that everything is an emergency, i.e., a rude fellow passenger is something like the end of the world. But--also--this is tiresome!
I miss my serial killers already, but I expect I'll get to travel again in the springtime. Counting down the days.
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