It's a desperate search. The one for my next read. I'm sifting though all of my books in the Cloud.
It seems like I'm downloading and opening every last one of them. I start reading one and get hung up on the fact that a truly frantic writer would stab pages with inkless indentations rather than ever consider rationing ink. But when I try to imagine balling up a notebook…it's on to the next one. It's pretty well-written, but honestly, I'm just not that into vampires so…another teenager in the snarky first person who's passed over for…the smell of bread…for two whole pages…the first ones...maybe a computer game…Wait. Is he being tortured? Did you watch Scandal last night? Nope. Not interested in reading about torture. At all...a birthday party with dad's girl friend, ticking off her flaws…first one up: that lead-in discussion of lip gloss…okay, maybe the hard-core fantasy with dragons…Oh. The prerequisite bar scene and brawl…onto the sci-fi sex club. Have degenerate sex clubs become a sci-fi trope? I mean this isn't the first one I've come across…in less than a month. SIGH.
Finally. I settle on Until Tuesday. A dog. A golden lab. With sad eyes, a big goofy smile, and a regal bearing. Yes. This was the book I was trying to find.