The Lost Continent

I finished reading another book last night, this time at 3:30 a.m. "The Lost Continent," by Bill Bryson, chronicles his trip to 38 of the lower 48. He doesn't go to the touristy parts of towns or cities; rather, he seeks for small-town America. He stays at budget motels and eats at local diners or restaurants, some with hilarious results. He braves some scary weather in the west and goes through Donner Pass. In the end, a really good read.

My next book is The Holocaust, by Martin Gilbert, but I'm starting to think that I need something lighter, after Bryson. I might seek out The Dead Beat, by Marilyn Johnson. It's about writing obituaries, of which I seem to be editing quite a lot these days, compared to before (almost none).