Spiritual Confession

No, not mine. Anne Rice's spiritual confession. Right now I'm reading her auto-biographical "Called Out of Darkness: A Spiritual Confession." It chronicles her journey from growing up Catholic to completely losing her faith to finding it again. I'm about halfway through it and it's both fascinating and heart-wrenching, so far. I've never read anything by her before -- I never got into her vampire series. I'll probably post about the book when I finish it.

This book is the result of a trip to the library with the girls last week. I've finally ended my period of Twilight mourning. You know, when you're so sad you've finished the series that you don't want to read anything for a while. For me, this lasted for several months. Unless you count Maureen (Marcia Brady) McCormick's "Here's the Story," which was like every other child star's auto-bio you can imagine. ("I was a child star and as soon as the show ended, I got hooked on drugs." Blah, blah blah...) SO depressing. Eric Clapton's auto-bio was depressing, too, but it was at least interesting.

I also got "Sundays in America: A Yearlong Road Trip in Search of Christian Faith" by Suzanne Strempek Shea. It's Shea's account of visiting a different church every Sunday for a year. And I got "Riding the Bus With My Sister" by Rachel Simon, which is the true-life story of the author's relationship with her mentally retarded sister. I know I'll have something to blog about after reading that one. One of my closest childhood friends was a mentally-retarded woman who went to my church. We played with my dollhouse, swam in her pool and had a great time together. Most of the time I forgot she was my mom's age and I was shocked when I got old enough to realize there was something "wrong" with her. I just thought she was a grown-up who lived with her parents and was a lot of fun.

Now I just need TIME to read all this stuff.