My husband has got enough of me and my sad books. He says he's done with me crying after every book I read. Nowadays he has no sympathy for my grieving. When I go to him and tell that I just read something so sad that I need to be comforted he just laugh at me. If I keep reading sad books it's my own fault if I end up crying (he says).

He kind of has a point. Since May I have read books about suicide, end of the world, ageing and dying, parents who kill their children, families who are unable to talk together, lots and lots of murders and (the happiest subject of all) child prostitutes.

Because of all this my husband has now started a campaign called "Let's find funny books to Reeta!" And because we have so nice friends one of them has already taken part in this campaign and bought me a book that is supposed to be very funny. Well, we'll see about that. Somehow everything I read seems to transform into something very very sad.

I have not finished the funny book yet, so you just have to wait a little longer. I will keep you informed and let you know if I end up crying this time too.