I know I sort of dropped off the face of the blogging planet for a while there, but I apologize and I blame visiting parents (two sets of them).

I also realize that it’s been many weeks since I stuck to my once-a-week Name That Novel challenge, and in the end I must confess that there’s little chance of it continuing since my life will only get busier for the foreseeable future.

So, here’s one last hurrah for Name That Novel – which book opens like this? (Chapter 1, not the Prologue):

 Strange thing, time. It weighs most on those who have it least.  Nothing is lighter than being young with the world on your shoulders; it gives you a feeling of possibility so seductive, you know there must be something more important you could be doing than studying for exams.

I can see myself now, the night it all began. I’m lying back on the old red sofa in our dorm room, wrestling with Pavlov and his dogs in my introductory psychology book, wondering why I never fulfilled my science requirement as a freshman like everyone else.A pair of letters sits on the coffee table in front of me, each containing a vision of what I could be doing next year. The night of Good Friday has fallen, cold April in Princeton, New Jersey, and with only a month of college left I’m no different from anyone else in the class of 1999: I’m having trouble getting my mind off the future.

Have fun! I was going to write more, but I just made lunch plans, which means I should really get a shower.