Random thoughts

I am tired, but can’t seem to quiet my mind down enough for sleep, so let’s have an LJ post instead.

I wonder why it is that a book about urban vampires with ridiculous names Like Rhage and Phury fills me with unholy glee, whereas a reread of a book I loved ten years ago which contains some of the soppiest dialogue known to man, not to mention one of the weirdest love knots ever, makes me wish I weren’t reading an etext so I could toss something physical across a room?

I’m not sure what I’m getting at, except that I clearly would not know fine literature if it smacked me in the face. (Case in point, I am enjoying Christine Feehan’s second Carpathian novel, which I started despite the fact that I seriously did not love the first one.)