Welcome to our Sundays In Bed With… Meme! The meme that dares to ask what book has been in your bed this morning? Come share what book you’ve spent time curled up reading in bed, or which book you wish you had time to read today!
We’re done trying to make this a blog hop, but still feel free to participate! Maybe someday we’ll try to make it happen as a blog hop again, but right now we feel like Gretchen trying to make ‘fetch’ happen.
This morning Kim is reading:
Come Sundown by Nora Roberts
Kate here: I got nothing for this one. I don’t think I’ve ever read a Nora Roberts book? Although I keep thinking of trying one of the In Death books by her alter ego, J.D. Robb, because Kim told me one of the characters is a hot Irish dude, which can usually get me to read a book.
This morning Kate is reading:
The Paris Wife by Paula McLain
So we’re reading this for book club, and I’m listening to it on audiobook because it’s not my usual kind of read so I thought that would help me get into it. And it has, I’m enjoying the narration and the time period. And I have to agree with Hadley’s opinion that young Ernest Hemingway is kind of a hottie. I have never cared for his writing, so honestly I wasn’t aware of that much about his life (well, other than his war years because I saw that movie with Chris O’Donnell and Sandra Bullock, and of course how Hemingway’s life ended). I kind of fell down the Wikipedia rabbit hole yesterday, looking up all his wives (he was married to some fascinating women, but his third wife was a freaking bad ass photographer that wouldn’t put up with his nonsense). This is a fictionalized account of his first marriage, told through Hadley’s voice, and her story is equally interesting. She was 28 when she met the 20 year old Hemingway, her life marked with tragedy and possibly because she was so sheltered , it was her sweetness and sense of naivety that attracted him to her. He swept her off her feet, so she ignored the warning signs (the big red flashing kind) that he was a bit too enamored with other women.
I have never been one to wish to go back into the past (I like tampons and electricity and Netflix) but it’s hard not to wish I was in Paris in the 1920’s, at some cafe, chatting with Gertrude Stein and Ezra Pound while sipping coffee and nibbling on a decadent pastry. Of course, the cigarette smoke of that era would probably choke me to death, so maybe not.