Three days ago I finished the book I was reading. I had enjoyed the book, though it wasn't the best nor the worst I have read. Not great enough for a reread, at least not yet. I'm still slowly moving through the Hemingway bio, but it's slow going because I want it to be, so I have been switching to a novel to get me through the day. But, I can't seem to settle in to a new novel yet. I picked up "The Moonstone" by Wilkie Collins first. That choice was guided by a Hemingway wisecrack about Collins' writing and remembering that I had enjoyed "The Woman in White." I have not been able to connect with it. The mid 19th century language is off putting though I was vastly amused by a statement, describing marriage as it reminds me of my own. "How it was I don't understand, but we always seemed to be getting, with the best of motives, in one another's way. When I wanted to go upstairs, there was my wife coming down, or when my wife wanted to go down, there was I coming up. That is married life, according to my experience of it. "
Next I opted for Doris Lessing's, "Shikasta", recommended by a friend and sitting on the shelf for quite a while. In years past I've enjoyed her books, but this one is off to a confusing start and on its way back to the shelf.
Thus, I'm stuck, which may mean I'll slide back to the British mysteries that I do enjoy, but they were becoming boring. Desirous of a book that I can't bear to put down, I'm going to keep searching, but for tonight I'll join Ernest and his array of odd interesting companions or if not, there's always Netflix.