If I can a million why not?
I’ve just lifted my head from the latest page of the current book I’m reading, Spillover. Unless you want to know that a whole host of lethal viruses that used to live happily in animals are now packing up and moving into humans, don’t read this book. On the other hand, if microscopic mayhem gets you going, this book is amazing. But this post isn’t about Spillover. Nor is it about the permanent pile of ever-changing books next to my bed that threaten to topple over and crush me every time I reach over to turn out the light. This is about my thoughts precipitated by an article in the Washington Post way back on December 30, entitled “How many books did you read this year?”
The article starts with the following: “The average American reads four books a year, and the average American finds this more than sufficient.”
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