I’ve been working my way through a big chunk of Orson Scott Card’s work over the last few months (most of which I’ve read before) for a piece I’m working on, but the list of novels I’d like to read is almost always, if not novel-length, at least long enough to fill a novella. There’s also a list of novels which I’d like to be able to say I’ve read, though I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to sit down and do the work of reading. I tried reading Infinite Jest a few years ago, for example, and made it about 600 pages in before deciding that, interesting as it might be from time to time, reading it was entirely too much like homework. This probably discounts my future membership in all sorts of cooler-than-thou experimental lit clubs, especially since the book I picked up right after was Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, which I enjoyed much more (and which, I should add, is supposedly in development as a movie by one of the producers of Firefly).