My pre-summr reading? Just finished two novels by an old flame. The flame itself died in the 70s, whereupon its human incarnation decided to write novels and get married a couple of times, no doubt all as compensation for the loss of my erotic, youthful companionship. And his. I seem to be spending an inordinate amount of my reading time, nowadays, on books by old someones. They're churning 'em out, in defiance of encroaching mortality, I guess. And I feel obligated to keep up, as a somewhat reluctant devotee of nostalgia. It seems a better way of keeping in touch than dropping an e-mail. Carol