After finishing A Constellation of Vital Phenomena on Saturday I needed a new book to listen to. Again I looked at my very long list of unread/unfinished audio books and decided I’d try the oldest book on my unfinished list: A River Runs Through It.
Eight or so years ago when Clare and I drove cross-country to move her to Olympia, WA I bought the audio version of A River Runs Through It. I was not really a fan of the movie, and could barely remember what it was about, but I knew that it took place in or around Missoula, MT where we were going to stay for a night. Clare and I didn’t get far in the book, it was just too relaxing for a long drive. I’ve since tried to listen to it and it was not until this morning that I finally started enjoying it. Interestingly, the narrator, Ivan Doig was the author of a bookgroup read (The Whistling Season) I only barely liked. I like his voice though.
What is it about our penchant to enjoy something at one point but to not enjoy it at another? Mood? Age? Experiences?
The photo at the top of the page is the Clark Fork River in Missoula. It’s the “river that runs through it”.
When I'm Sixty-four 
I love the photo of the river – it could be in NZ.
I’m very much a have-to-be-in-the-mood reader. Place, age, mood, previous reads, etc all dictate what appeals to me at the time.
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