This afternoon I had to polish a silver spoon and fork for a photo. It is my fate (and that of Ishiguro fans everywhere), perhaps, to think of Stevens from The Remains of the Day whenever I reach for the silver polish. Just as I can no longer listen to Boz Scaggs sing Never Let Me Go without thinking of Ishiguro’s unsettling book of the same name.

At the garage sale down the street, Wally Lamb’s I Know This Much is True was on display. The seller and I had quite a discussion about the pros and cons of the book. We both agreed it was an exhausting read.

I read it on the heels of his earlier work, She’s Come Undone, with another flawed but fascinating main character. Not good choices for light summer reading, but I’m glad I got through both.

The only books that might be classified as such were The Monk Downstairs by Tim Farrington, and of course, Scott Smith’s The Ruins. Rose’s Garden by Carrie Brown. The Haunting of L by Howard Norman is too dark to qualify, ditto The Geographer’s Library by Jon Fasman.

After trying to get through award winners from say, the Man Booker awards list, I went back to the random book sale method. All the libraries around here have wonderful sales with by-the-bag days. A couple of bags ($4 - $5 each) will get me through months of reading with happy surprises guaranteed. These generally get donated back to the libraries, so it’s a good situation all around.

In the queue: Harry Potter, a 7-day book from the library which I foolishly checked out just before leaving on vacation, thinking it would be fun on the plane. This was the weighty hardback version, rejected at packing time. There’s a waiting list for Harry, but the deal is, if you can find it on the shelf or a sorting rack, it’s fair game.