As part of my job, I grab books well before their publication. I read many right away, but some float around for years, from my desk to my bag, onto an end table, over to a bookshelf, out to the couch, and back to a shelf, all before I actually take a real look. Either I read something six months before it comes out or 10 years after the fact. But it's all part of a rhythm.
A colleague of mine recommends reading a mystery after finishing a particularly potent story, when you feel like nothing else can hold a candle. That's also when I'll reach for one of those books that have followed me around for years and years. Or, I'll pull out a classic, some gem that's really stood the test of time. As a result, I've developed a reliable fondness for Michael Bennett's riveting Hana Westerman thrillers, Katherine Heiny's breathtaking short stories, and Edith Wharton's spellbinding novels. Although, I must admit, that the palate cleanser is often just as satiating as the main course.