I finished reading Going Down South this morning, and I really enjoyed it. I won't say too much about it, here, though, because I'm planning to post my review of it later today or sometime tomorrow, and I don't want the review to be redundant. What I will say is this: I don't know how it happened, but I seem to be reading a fair amount of books that focus on mother-daughter relationships this year (this was one; Sweet Love, by Sarah Strohmeyer was another, for example).
I really haven't been too interested in spending time with long books recently, and I don't know why. This means, of course, that my Dumas marathon has come to something of a screeching halt. I haven't spent more than about five minutes with The Three Musketeers in two or three weeks. And I don't remember the last time I touched Drums of Autumn. I seem to be really hit or miss with this Outlander series. It took me a month to read Outlander, but I stalled on Dragonfly in Amber, and it took me six months to read. Then I flew through Voyager in two weeks, but have stalled again on Drums. I suspect part of it is my subconscious reminding me that many of the people who have read this series before me really didn't care for The Fiery Cross, the fifth book in the series. So maybe this is my mind's way of prolonging my time before I get to the point where I have to read it to move on with the series.
Does anyone else have that happen? Where they just get so stuck with something they can't move forward, even though they know it's a book they'll enjoy if only they can just get through it?