Lost in a Book is the offspring of a surprisingly harmonious marriage between a life-long love affair with reading and an on-again/off-again fling with writing.

For no reason in particular, in 2006 I decided that I would challenge myself to write up my thoughts on every book that I read. As I am a voracious reader but somewhat more reluctant writer, this exercise unsurprisingly collapsed after book #7 (Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes).

It turns out I didn’t have much to say about book #8 — Snow Falling on Cedars, by David Guterson — beyond a few thoughts about mood/tone. Determined not to waver from the task I had (quite arbitrarily) set out for myself, I diligently scribbled some unconnected sentence fragments onto a sheet of paper… which then sat on my desk for the next several years, gathering dust while I stubbornly refused to pen a single thought about a subsequent book until I’d written something complete and coherent about book #8.

Now it’s 2010, and I’m going to give this another shot. This time, however, I will add the caveat that my goal is to write up my thoughts on every book that I read and about which I have thoughts to share. That should take care of that pesky loophole.

In addition to discussing books as I read them, Lost in a Book will also act as an archive for those musings from 2006, and other book-related thoughts I’ve taken the time to type up over the years.

Finally, due to my career as a graphic designer, I am helplessly prone to that most forbidden act of judging a book by its cover. Because of this proclivity, there is an excellent chance that from time to time I’ll take a break from talking about books in the narrative/text sense, and instead discuss cover design and the book itself as an object.