I bought a new book

I know. You're shocked. Me -- buying a book. Amazing.

Yesterday, I went into an independent local bookstore to see if they had the new Laurell K. Hamilton book. While we looked for it (never did find it, much to the owner's confusion because she'd still had one copy when she left the night before), I saw a book that I had read a synopsis of a couple of weeks ago.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.

Briefly, it is about a girl living in Nazi Germany who discovers books. And the story is narrated by Death himself because he becomes interested in her after he comes to take the soul of her little brother. He keeps her tale tucked away in his pockets among the legions of humans' tales, but he takes hers out to share with us.

I'm only about thirty-five pages or so into this book, and I'm entranced by Zusak's writing style. He uses simple words and phrases, but the way he puts them together evokes amazing images. Sometimes he even makes up words, but it takes you reading on for another sentence or two before you think, "Hey! That's not a real word!" He's that good at weaving them in.

And Death is a pretty interesting character.