I keep seeing these posts where memes get passed around, where one person "tags" another as an inducement to answer a list of questions. One is presumably supposed to answer the questions, post the response, and tag a handful of others.

I had been secretly glad that I'd never been tagged. And I also wondered, just how are you supposed to find out you're on the hook?

Well. Never mind. There I was ego-surfing my blog, checking out the incoming referrers, wondering who's linked to me lately, and there I find that Travis Johnson, fellow PneumaBlogger, has done gone and tagged me with the One Book meme.

An enterprising Ben Fernström, with way too much time on his hands, tracked down the beginnings of the One Book meme, wrote an entertaining narrative, and positioned himself as belonging to the 14th generation of this meme's recipients.

Thus, ultimately, we have Benjamin Myers to blame for this post. I'm the 18th generation of this particular meme, but by a different route (see the note at the end).

:: sigh ::

Well, at least I'm one of the cool kids now!

So, here goes:

Not that anyone really cares what’s on my bookshelf, but I do. I always keep wishing I’d kept a reading journal starting back when I was a kid, because, mercy, I’ve read a lot of fiction. And a bit of non-fiction. But the fiction? A tsunami of ink has flowed over my gray cerebral folds and left odd bits of flotsam behind. Sci-fi, fantasy, thrillers, international and political intrigue, mysteries, police procedurals, courtroom dramas, and adventure stories have left my head full of strange ideas and weird connections that has my family puzzled at times. Not that I remember the plot lines all that well. Fiction, for me, is a relaxing bubble-bath for the brain—not that I’m a bubble-bath-enjoying sort. But, if I were … well, you’d find me there with a soapy book.

Jennifer and I have tried to catalog just the books I own (forget about the books I