Because I'm Such A Truebie

I have finished two more installments of the Sookie Stackhouse novels. Generally, books turned movies/TV series aren't rendered faithfully and thus, they tend to be disappointing to watch . However, I find Trueblood quite the contrary. I happen to like the series more than the novels. Maybe because the novels are far too romance-y for me.

I was able to spend a part of October at home, mainly for Nanay's 60th birthday. Rummaging through my old stuffs, I found lots of unread paperbacks. Most of them were from college days in Baguio and about two-thirds are considered "Classics." I only brought back with me these ones:

On the pretext that I'd be bookhunting for the nieces and a nephew, I could not help but get these for myself:

Currently, I am down to the last 60 pages of Joseph Heller's Catch-22 (it takes me so long to finish an ebook because I don't like reading from either the netbook or the phone. My brother suggests I get an ebook reader. For now, I'll just stick with physical books.)

Virginia Wolf's The Waves is shelved, at the moment, because I find that one needs to be in a certain mood (which is a tad bit difficult to induce), in a certain place and time (most definitely the beach on a sunny day) before an appreciation of the book's poignancy can be had. 

The physical book I'm currently sticking up my nose in is Julie Hecht's The Unprofessionals. The title is reason enough for me to pick the book.