After finishing Shalimar the Clown, I needed a break from serious reading. I needed something that read itself; something that I didn't need to concentrate on to follow. I found exactly what I needed in The Man Who Ate the 747.

What attracted me to the book in the first place was the story line - a record keeper for the Guiness Book of Records flies to the middle of nowhere to watch a man eat a plane to prove his love for a girl who doesn't even really notice him. It sounded fun! I bought the book and it lay on my shelf for months waiting for me to open it up. I tend to have a system when reading books - serious followed by cutesy - and it just never felt like the right time for this one. It almost felt too lighthearted and I hadn't read anything that needed that much fun to counter it. Until Shalimar. After I closed that book and threw it across the room, I knew exactly which one I would open next.

Within the first few chapters, I knew exactly what was going to happen. There was never any mystery for me. Usually this is something that I need. Without it, I usually have no incentive to turn the page. I like wanting to know what happens next, how things will play out, who will end up with who. Knowing this early on would usually make me lose interest. But the way that the book is written kept me hooked and turning the pages until I reached the end and wished I hadn't. I just wanted to keep reading.

After reading The Man Who Ate the 747, I felt that my reading cycle had been completed - the readers block that had set in during Shalimar had been lifted and I felt the desire to read again. So thank you, Ben Sherwood, for providing me the perfect counter to what could have been the end of my reading streak. There is nothing extraordinary about the book itself, but it was enough to make me smile and get me reading again. It was enough to make me rediscover my love and decide to pick up Number 9 Dream. I am indebted to you.