Nothing brings out my desire for a trashy novel like being on vacation. On Saturday morning, I left my home on the coast of NJ and drove straight through the day and night to my parents’ house on the west coast of Florida. The drive was 1,238 miles and took me 18 hours and 55 minutes.
I brought a suitcase, toiletries bag, cooler bag of PB&J sandwiches, my purse, and a giant canvas tote bag positively brimming with BOOKS–34 in all–but none of them trashy!
My only excuse for such literary selections is that visiting my parents isn’t technically a vacation–not in the frozen margarita, hammock on the beach type of trip.
Do your reading choices or genres change with the seasons, weather, or while you’re on vacation?