Thoughts of no particular interest to anyone but myself:

• November already? It’s hard to believe that there are less than two months left in the year. And now that winter is almost upon us, I think it’s time to read a good murder mystery. Or maybe a good young-adult book. I know a lot of people like to read fun books during the summer months and serious books during the autumn and winter months; for some reason, I’m the exact opposite. I’m not sure why.
• Of course, I still have to finish the three books I checked out last week, but I think I’ll catch up on J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series when I go back to the library. It’s been a few years since I’ve read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
• Ellen Raskin’s The Westing Game looks like a good mystery. I can’t believe I’ve never read this book. Isn’t The Westing Game some kind of reading requirement for fifth-graders? I seem to remember that book being popular when I was in elementary school.
• Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time was also popular back then. I read that book a little over a year ago, but I’m hard-pressed to remember anything specific about it. Something about a tesseract. And Mrs. Whatsit.
• In any case, I think it would be a good autumn book to read.
• That’s not to say that I’m actually going to read it again. It didn’t make an impression on me the first time around; somehow, I don’t think a second reading is going to make the book stick with me.
• I’m making slow but steady progress on Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. Is it just me or is Huxley’s book—with its themes of promiscuity, drug use, and genetic engineering—a more accurate reflection of our world than George Orwell’s 1984?