Patience is not my virtue

In furtherance of my current Max Gladstone obsession, I'm reading "Bookburners" on Serial Box.  It's an interesting concept - they're doing old-fashioned serial stories.  Each story is self-contained, inside of an overall story arc - much like any police procedural television series.  There are four authors collaborating, and all the writing is quite good.  I particularly like Margaret Dunlap's dialogue (which makes sense when you find out that she's a screenwriter.)

The concept is a bit of a knock-off of "The Librarians," but I'm enjoying it nonetheless.  The format is fun, and it's also the problem.  A new installment is released every Wednesday.  This is the sort of story that I would normally gulp down in a sitting.  Or maybe two.  But I get an installment once a week, and it's KILLING me.  I want more.  Moremoremoremore.  Sigh.  It's even worse because of the way I read.  Apparently each piece is designed to take about forty minutes to read - I'm knocking them out in twenty.  I knew I read fast, I had no idea that I read THAT fast.  My goodness.

Years ago, I read that when the last installment of "The Old Curiosity Shop" came over from England, New Yorkers stormed the wharf when the ship arrived yelling "Did Little Nell die?"  I never understood that - partly because I loathe Dickens.  But now I get it.

Unemployment sucks, but at least I'm getting a lot done around the house.  Although I hate drywall work.  Back to it - I want to get my living room furniture out of the kitchen, and I can't do that until the painting is done.  And I can't paint until the molding is all pulled off and the drywall is patched.  So - more sanding.