I have a perhaps odd fiction-reading habit. When I love an author, I hold off reading every last thing the author published. This is especially true for living, lauded authors. The louder the praise, the longer I wait to read the latest book, I supposed because the hoopla can warp the reading experience. This approach works well with living writers. Since I read far more fiction by dead writers than living ones, though, a slightly different approach kicks in. I read everything except, and the exceptions vary quite a bit.Read More