I didn't think this would happen. It isn't a problem, but-- Well, maybe it's a little problem. It's a good problem. My high school self is burying her head in her self-loathing, self-denying arms right now as I admit this: I'm distracted from my novel, Cutting for Stone, (which may be the best book I've read since The Help, of course not counting Guernsey) by Shakespeare! Again!
"Twelfth Night" had me by the 2nd page. The drunk guy talking up his friend to Olivia's maidservant lady about how tall he is. Great stuff! Viola's plan to dress as a eunuch boy, and the captain's weirdly intense promise to keep her secret. I normally read my "current" novel at night before I sleep, but tonight is "Twelfth Night!"
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