Books are rearranged plants.

I present the following evidence toward my theory that I read much much less when I am writing: so far this year, I have read one book.  Sure, sure, I finished the second half of Pratchett's Hogfather.  Otherwise, I've only read Dave Egger's You Shall Know Our Velocity! which was quite good.  Not spectacular, but good, solid.  I just started Zadie Smith's White Teeth, which is promising so far, but does feel like a first novel. 

Three months of the year gone and I've read one book.  I don't think the summer is going to rectify this either as I'm hoping/planning to retackle the Missing novel I started in November.  No Fifty Book Challenge for me this year!