It occurred to me that I never mentioned what my next book would be. I have chosen The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck as my 66th read from the list. This is a book that I felt I was familiar with, but after having started it, now realize I don't know anything about it.
I must have thought I knew more than I do because of the movie starring Henry Fonda (which I haven't seen). I've also visited Monterrey, California quite a few times, where many buildings have a Steinbeck connection. Obviously, neither of these insights tell me anything about the book, so it shouldn't come as a surprise.
I started the book last week, but have only read a couple dozen pages. For the past couple of months I've been bogged down in Roland Huntford's biography of Sir Ernest Shackleton; Shackleton. I say bogged down because it's a slow, intense read, not because I wasn't enjoying it. Quite the contrary. Having known about as much about Shackleton as I do about The Grapes of Wrath, I was very engrossed in his adventures in Antarctica in the early 20th century.
But I finished that one this morning, so I can now move full steam ahead into #66.