I just finished two completely different books, Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home and Jodi Picoult's The Tenth Circle. The former is an OMG-I-can't-put-this-down first person account of a horrific plane crash and the suffering that followed as the survivors scraped out an existence high in the Andes, while the second is thoroughly middle-brow contemporary tale of family secrets and revenge. Yet both included very vivid descriptions of freezing nearly to death.Now I'm reading Anita Diamant's The Last Days of Dogtown, which I chose because--like seemingly every woman I've ever met--I'm a big fan of The Red Tent. It's pretty good, but not so riveting I can't push it aside for a fresh issue of the The New Yorker.
