Or, slightly different, books you want to have read, but not want to have to read. If you're like me, you have an extensive collection of books bought, but not yet read. Some of them you start reading the moment you've bought them, others you save for a special moment and yet others just lie there, waiting patiently for you to notice them and finally read them and every time you look at them you feel guilty. One of the books I want to have read, but hesitate to start reading is Colin Greenland's _Taking Back Plenty, a rollicking, original space opera. Or so the reviews say, cause I've nver come further then page 30 before bogging down. I've had the book for 3? 4? years now and it's getting ridiculous. There are more books like that on my to read shelf, including some Heinlein classics I should've read at twelve, but didn't find in time. Another Heinlein book I'm scared to read, or reread in this case. You see, I really liked this book in its Dutch translation and have read it a number of times. It's _The Door into Summer_ and after James Nicoll's review[1] I'm scared to reread it and find out the book wasn't all that I thought it was... Two other books I'm scared to read are Stirlig's _Marching Through Georgia_ and especially _Under the Yoke_. I've read the third book in this series _The Stone Dogs_ and that was depressing enough, to get close up with the Draka in _Under the Yoke_ scares me. (The Draka, for those who don't know, are uber South Africans who conquer the world and do all kind of nasty things to inferior people, but that's okay because the main characters in the books are nice to their family and pets, plus they have some hot steaming lesbo sex with their slaves.) Either I'll like the Draka, which is repulsive or I'll be desperately waiting for somebody to get the goods on them, which ain't going to happen. Either way it will be a depressing read... What about you? Got any books waiting for which you keep making excuses not to read it? [1] available at <http://www.ad-astra.demon.nl/esseff/millennial-3.html Martin Wisse