the dangers of reading

yes. some books are very dangerous, as two blog posts have recently highlighted:

there was the post on the embarrassment of blubbering over a book on the tram, by Brand New Blogger pippy b, who some of you might remember from her review on this very blog of one of our thursdays is missing by jasper fforde (that wiley double ffer).*

here are some books not to read on the tram:

• on the jellicoe road, melina marchetta
• if i stay, gayle forman
• looking for alaska, john green
• of a boy, sonya hartnett

and the inkling, who has appeared to have rediscovered blogging with fervour, writes about the merit of mediocre-to-pretty-good books because really good books get in the way of working and sleeping.

here are some books that get in the way of regular day-to-day programming:

• the knife of never letting go, patrick ness
• his dark materials, philip pullman
• the end of mr y, scarlett thomas
• spud, john van de ruit (double whammy warning: also makes you weep like a footballer who loses a premiership, or roger federer whether he wins or loses)

and the mediocre-to-pretty-good books to read when you only have half a brain to spare but still want to be pleasantly entertained:

• circle of friends, maeve binchy
• all of sarah dessen's oeuvre, particularly just listen and lock and key

*"but," you're saying indignantly, "you said her name was arlene. is it arlene or pippy b? or is it BJ?" just go with it...her elusiveness adds to the allure.