I read fifty books last year. To some, that is a lot. For me, it fell short of my 2017 Goodreads Challenge goal by five books.
By November I was really bothered by the obvious. With Thanksgiving on the horizon rolling into an early December vacation then returning to Christmas in full swing, I told myself there are worse things than not reading 55 books in 2017.
Let’s back up a bit.
It started this Autumn when the air pinked the cheeks and the darkness came sooner.
You see, my husband is not a reader. I am not an avid sports spectator, Cubs aside. One common interest while at home is watching something interesting. And for lack of good movies On Demand, previous overindulging in the Food Network and HGTV, and with many recommendations from friends in hand, we launched ourselves firmly into…
Duh, Duh, Duhhhhhhhh!!!!!
(Cue Netflix logo)
It began with The Killing, which is based on a Scandinavian mystery series, and it is outstanding. Four seasons with approximately 10 episodes per.
Then I can’t remember the order.
Bloodline (multiple seasons)
Silicon Valley (more seasons than I realized)
Ozark (one season)
Mindhunter (one season, boo! hurry!)
Master of None (two seasons and fun!)
The Crown (second season came out in the nick of time on 12/8/17)
Stranger Things (two seasons and oddly addicting)
Then the polar vortex came and so did…
Godless (one season mini-series and soooooo good!)
Broadchurch (British mystery series, started last night)
During the sixth episode of Broadchurch, I needed toothpicks but still wanted to start the seventh. I’m pretty sick so it was a struggle staying up until 11:00 when I took NyQuil.
On my own this year, I watched Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and Orange is the New Black.
So really, I am blaming Netflix for severely cutting into the time I would ordinarily spend reading.
I set my goal for 52 books in 2018.
I will make it if I want to.