The election coverage (and the effects of only three hours sleep) mean little reading is likely to be done here today, but I have two books on the go which will suit whether it's pepping up I need or perhaps calming down after too much caffeine.
For excitement, intrigue and a many-faceted puzzle, Patricia Duncker's The Strange Case of the Composer and his Judge is proving quite gripping, but I've noticed that it's often non-fiction which I turn to when tired, and my current book at bedtime is Alberto Manguel's A Reader on Reading, an essay at a time, that quieter, more personal voice a pleasant contrast to the dramatic one of Duncker's novel.
Voice, I think, is crucial in any book - pitch, pace, rhythm, the timbre of the prose - is it a voice you can listen to comfortably, or is it one so defined by its colour, range or depth that you can hear only so much before you feel inclined to 'switch off'. Mood tells in voice, of course, from the 'vocal smile' to the dark notes that bespeak the sombre countenance, and that's more or less audible according to the volume at which the writer is speaking. I'm labouring this, I know, but I do read books rather as I listen to music or tune into a speaker's accent or particular vocal emphasis, so 'voice' in books is key (no pun intended) and very powerful.
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After that thought for the day, my thanks to everyone who has left a comment on last week's 'In profile' post. I've yet to analyse or properly compare all the answers to the three questions (and do, please, add yours if you haven't already done so), but there does seem to be a large area of common reading ground and many interesting divergences. The multitude of books listed there could keep us busy - and no doubt happy - for quite some time.
