This is the end of the Labour Day weekend, and after the lovely hot summer we have experienced this feels positively chilly - 15C! However each season offers up it's own special charms and of course downfalls. Here;s hoping for a long, colourful and warm fall.

Of all the summers that I remember so far, seems to me I spent a lot of it sitting out on my porch watching the world go by, drinking tea (and other libations) and reading duing this one. Finally finished StoryWallah which is short stories by writers from the Indian diaspora and edited by Shyam Selvadurai. It was a most rewarding book, and made me remember how much I like short stories. So then I got the Granta Book of the Irish Short Story edited by Anne Enright, which was wonderful specially in the breadth of the stories, and included stories by the usual suspects; including but not limited to Neil Jordan, Colm Toibin and Roddy Doyle.

The two that made the most impact on me are well-known and I should have read them earlier but for some reason never did or didn't finish. They are All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy and Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie. I am not exaggerating too much when I say that I was hard pressed to put them down once I started. In short they were both compelling reads.

I was struck by the simple but absolutely pitch perfect writing in All the Pretty Horses, I particularly remember McCarthy's description of the ring left on the table from a very hot, just made cup of coffee at El Jefe's hacienda. And equally Salman Rushdie was able to capture the Indian temprament, the particular nuance of language and the feeling of the times so beautifully and perfectly. Completely deserves the Booker of Bookers. Both these books stayed with me long after having finished them.

Now reading Thomas Pynchon's tome Against the Day; proving to be a bit of a slog at well over 1,000 pages. Also reading Bossypants by Tina Fey - nice foil; fun read. Looking forward to more this fall and winter.