Even when reading slowly, sometimes you race through books. And sometimes you get cookies.
I have finished Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," my first "slow read" of the year. I started it on New Year's Eve, finished it on Super Bowl Sunday, reading for hours on some days, for just a few minutes on others, letting it take as long as it took — until the end.
For the last 50 pages or so, however, I sped up. I am not proud of this. But I needed to know what happened to all those wonderful, intensely human characters.
