Unholy intergalactic sexual congress

Knowing full well that finding my shoe size in a department store, or even at a shoe-specific retailer, is a bit of a crap shoot, I approach sales clerks fully loaded, shoving 9 or 10 shoes into their eagerly awaiting arms (there are always one or two that I adore, but years upon years of shoe shoppping have taught me not to let my hopes get too high). They are eager to please until I tell them the size (11) at which point their faces fall and they head to the stock room for a rather lengthy search. They may return with a pair or two, maybe in a different color than I've requested. They may come out and, with a semi-hopeful but mostly deflated smile, offer a smaller size (which, I can tell you, is not an option when we're talking about heels). More often then not, they come back, throw their hands in the air and simply shake their heads. I don't really get disappointed anymore--it's a game we play--the internet has done wonderful things for large- (and small-) footed shoe buyers. And, before you start thinking about, or laughing at my "freakishly large" feet please note that I could easily begin a shoe exchange with Paris Hilton-- a bit In Her Shoes, but that is neither here or there.
The ultimate point to this report is that I have taken my shoe buying strategy to the library with mixed results. As I come across new releases or suggested titles in various litblogs (morrishgirl.com, the litblog co-op, the elegant variation, vagablogging, etc.) I order them through the county's public library system. Inevitably, someone has what I'm looking for--but there is always some question of when I'll receive notice of its arrival. So, I order everything in the hopes that something will show up soon. Generally the system works rather well, and I've been wittling away at the "to be read" pile composed of recent acquisitions, books borrowed from friends and library loans. However, yesterday I received three of the books I've been *dying* to get my hands on--and now I don't know where to begin. I stare at them and they stare right back chanting "Read me! Read me!" like Munchkins starved for attention. "No!" I cry. "I have work to do!" But the chanting continues.
Then I remember that I'm alone in my apartment and that books don't talk-- but you get the picture.
So, I thought I'd share my delema--and my "to be read" list:
The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold
The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini
The Historian, Elizabeth Kostova
Holy Cow, Sarah Macdonald
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers
Picture of Dorian Grey, Oscar Wilde
I, Lucifer, Glen Duncan
Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits, Laila Lalami
Case Histories, Kate Atkinson
Adventures of a Continental Drifter: An Around-The-World Excursion Into Weirdness, Danger, Lust, and the Perils of Street Food, Elliot Hesser