On fiction Books

I Received a newsletter from Borders Singapore.

In this issue, they focused on books that were nominated for various Booker Prize. I scanned through some of the titles and read the synopsis. Boy, I realised it was a really long time since I last read a true fiction book.

I would not classify Paulo Coelho's as a true fiction because to me, his is more a book of philosophy using fiction as a platform to set his ideas and put forth his thinkings.

People around me have been recommending me Jodi Picoult. My sis finished one and passed me one of her books. Somehow while I was deciding what book to bring for my trip last week, I contemplated for a while Picoult's. However, I guess I havent had the habit of reading fiction for quite sometime because of the frequent travelling. I hate to read a book halfway, and because work and rest overrided continuing the book for months, I had to go back to the book, right in the middle, with no more clue of what exactly happened before. Having to just recalled the gist of the plot isnt adequate, it is very often the details that makes a book worth reading. This problem is a little less serious for non-fictions I feel.

In anycase, after reading through that newsletter, I was pretty tempted to grab some of them. I need to do something about my discipline in reading.

Workwise, I have got new projects coming up and some of the old projects have progressed and so more work has to be done.

It is hard for me to not travel here, at least not this winter.