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Reading the last dregs of Jane Austen
I was planning to make a post about the few Rex Stout novels I've reread in the last week or so in between The Silmarillion and some fanfiction; but I started reading one of Jane Austen's unfinished novels, The Watsons, which I've never read before even though I've been a regular rereader of her published novels since childhood.
There are a couple of unfinished works of hers I haven't read, I think partly because I hate reading works in progress and suffering the knowledge that you'll never know. In a sense this is worse with something that's very good and enjoyable, like Austen, but perhaps they're more worth the price as well. Getting increasingly engrossed is creating a mounting dismay as the end approaches, though.
There are a couple of unfinished works of hers I haven't read, I think partly because I hate reading works in progress and suffering the knowledge that you'll never know. In a sense this is worse with something that's very good and enjoyable, like Austen, but perhaps they're more worth the price as well. Getting increasingly engrossed is creating a mounting dismay as the end approaches, though.