North Maple Rag

First, a quick note about me and books. I love 'em. Always have, hopefully always will. And, for a long time, my favorite books were mysteries. I loved Nancy Drew, dabbled with the Hardy Boys, held Encyclopedia Brown books up to mirrors to find out if I'd correctly solved the puzzles, and was thrilled when Ann M. Martin started writing a mystery series to accompany the Babysitter's Club books. I think everyone who reads a lot as a kid has books that stay with them and that pop into their heads at odd moments. The Westing Game, a quirky and dark mystery that I loved circa 5th grade, is one of those books for me. During high school and college, I managed to work my way through many mystery series. Even today, despite the fact that my reading tastes have become nothing short of eclectic, I still get excited about new books from my favorite mystery authors (Julia Spencer-Fleming, K.J. Erickson, Marcia Muller & Earlene Fowler) and find the time to reread the best of Dorothy Sayers every summer.

Now, keep that background in mind when I tell you that last night I foolishly popped the first disc from Season 1 of Veronica Mars into my DVD player. It was close to 3am and I had planned to watch the pilot episode as I fell asleep. Four episodes later, I turned off the tv and fell asleep as the sun rose over New York. I'm addicted.