best of what?

Lots of people making best of and worst of lists, and I am making sad faces, because I don't remember. I don't remember what I read this year, and what was good (though I remember that Middlemarch was really, really good) and what was bad (except that I can recall how very, very bad Written on the Body was), and what I read at all.

I have a terrible, terrible memory, anyway, terrible enough that I spend a good sixty percent of my life convinced I am senile, alzheimeric, or there is something wrong with me and my head and when I am dead at 35 they will saw open my skull and find a giant throbbing tumor where a brain should have been. The other forty percent I spend on candy.

So letting the book list go for awhile, this year, was fatal, and all those books I read (which, now that I try to think about it, and get white searing pains across the backs of my eyeballs, seems to have not been so much an "all those books." I think I read a lot of Georgette Heyer, and a whole lot of nothing, otherwise. Intellectual!) are gone forever down a dark black hole, never to return. Though I can reread them with impunity!

So I'm going to try and do a better job of keeping a book list this year. I think I say that every year. But we'll see how it goes.