Jonathan Safran Foer's Here I Am

Aimless wandering in the mall brought me to National Bookstore. I headed to the corner of damaged books that would probably never find a home where they would be read and enjoyed. There I saw Jonathan Safran Foer's Here I Am in tatters. The front cover was partly ripped apart, but the pages smelled good. I got it for Php 151, on 80% discount. It's excellent writing about a Jewish-American family that's breaking apart, but in a super funny way. This came out many years after the author's last novel, which was also brilliant. This guy could write!

My tsundoku is growing. Worse (but not really), the number of books I have started but haven't finished is increasing. There's Manu Avenida's short story collection, Eleanor Catton's The Luminaries, Stephen King's Dark Tower II: The Drawing of the Three, Henry David Thoreau's The Journal (NYRB edition), Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass, and Hilary Mantel's Bring Up the Bodies. I hope to finish all these books before the year ends.