If there's a great pleasure that a lot of people never get to enjoy these days, it's discovering a new author.

[caption id="attachment_318" align="alignright" width="218" caption="Harlan Coben"]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/harlancoben3.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-318" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/harlancoben3-218x300.jpg" alt="" width="218" height="300" /></a>[/caption]

Since many people don't read for fun anymore, they never have happen what happened to me twice last month. When I was flying back and forth to Atlanta, I found myself looking for books to read on the plane. Since then I have been devouring Harlan Coben's books about sports agent/detective Myron Bolitar and Michael Connolly's books about LAPD detective Harry Bosch.

I'm actually surprised I never got around to either of them before this, but I'm enjoying the heck out of both. This was especially important to me because of the recent death of an author I have been reading for the last 35 years. Losing Robert B. Parker and the Spenser novels will leave a major void in my reading, but I'll fill it with Coben and Connolly for now.

One thing I've found as a lifelong reader is that there are always new authors, not to mention old ones I just don't know.

Reading really is wonderful.