We're having one of those weeks where we're completely unsatisfied with every book we pick up, even those from authors we ordinarily like. The new Fay Weldon just made us glad that we're a) childless and b) not British, and the Jonathan Ames we just picked up from the SFPL is leaving us cold. He just seems so anxious about everything, and he always has an erection.

In recent (that is, the last two or so weeks -- hey, we take Muni to the Sunset. We have a lot of time to read.) memory, the only book we've really dug is Possible Side Effects, by the always reliable Augusten Burroughs. Many of the essays in that book seem to be about being in a rut, just like how we seem to be in our book selections. Does our literary aimlessness actually have a greater significance? Only time shall tell. In the meantime, we encourage you to check out these books from the San Francisco Public Library, and hit us in the comments with how much you disagree (or agree) with our assessments of any of them.

SFist Rita just finished The Dead Beat by Marilyn Johnson, about obituaries. The topic was pretty interesting, and she's certainly reading the obits more carefully after finishing the book, but Johnson's writing was a tad too flowery for her tastes.

SFist Jer is reading Steve Almond's, The Evil B.B. Chow, a book of short stories. He's about halfway through, and so far it's good . . . short stories are a tough nut (hah!), and Almond's have been extremely compelling.

SFist Derrick is reading Jenny Kurzweil's Fields That Dream, which features profiles of small farmers in Washington State. Kurzweil grew up in a famous activist family, and turned her innate political bent towards food production. The book uses its profiles as stepping stones to conversations about agribusiness and other issues that affect our food supply, giving the issues human faces.