I knew this would happen one day. I’d read a book I’ve already read by accident. I’ve come close before and then recognized something or checked my goodreads account on a hunch. I am not a re-reader. There are a few amazing books I would consider reading again one day but it is rare and there is always another book I want to read for the first time waiting in the proverbial wings (library).
A few times my reader’s déjàvu has been The New Yorkers’ fault. They excerpt wonderful fiction and then I re-read the selection within a book and feel confused.
Alas, no excuse this time. I started reading a book, felt that nagging feeling, blamed the magazine but eventually realized it was all me. Not only have I read this book before, just a few years ago, but I actually borrowed it from the same friend as the last time! I guess it’s a small consolation that I am liking it again?