When I was little, I was quite a reader.
I wouldn’t even call it reading as it was much more of a devouring than a nibbling of words. In the 4th grade I went through The Mists of Avalon, an 876 page book, in one week. I didn’t understand a lot of the words but somehow the story played out in my imagination, readily And I was hooked.
I would walk around with a book in my hand, brush my teeth with a book in my hand, take out the trash with a book in my hand, wash the dishes while leaning over the counter, reading the water splashed pages that I couldn’t tear my eyes off of.
In the summers I could be found in the yard, book in one hand with the other hand waving in the air, as I read aloud to the trees.
In high school, it was all Romeo and Juliet, thanks to Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio.
O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circle orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
In my college years ai naturally fell into an English and Writing Major, that took this shi*t to a Whole-Nother-Level and not just because of my major but because of the period in life i. Which great transformation and curiosity expanded my world in a tiny Oregonian town.
Reading, ofcourse, makes several promises, the two most important being:
1. To take you away. 2. To many you a better writer.
I lost myself in libraries and found myself in books of poetry. Words crafted hundreds of years ago that could still call to my modern-woman’s heart. I would memorize them, to recite to myself. One of my favorites was this “A Phantom of Delight” by William Wordsworth.
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
In the course of time I would find that there is not always time for time spent with books. Yet there has always been pockets of life where I filled every possible moment with books and went through many phases as a reader.
There was ofcourse, the vampire phase with popular fictions Twighlight and Sookie Stackhouse. With the innovation of the e-readers I got to read 50 Shades of Gray without public shame. This was of-course followed by a very brief smut phase.
Sometimes, I would swoop through cultures, taking myself back in time and place by exploring novels relating to Native American history, Hawaiian History, Japanese culture, and a casual interest in World War II. There has been non-fiction phases that included the parenting book phase, the deep dark spirituality seeking phase, and to loosen it up, I routed back to the light hearted rom-com phase.
Each phase would have an important role for me beyond entertainment, including serving as beneficial to my mental health, my sense of peace, the ways I validate myself and look at the world.
Presently, I have found myself yet again in a stage of very heavy reading. This phase has no name. But reading has become oh-so important to me yet again.
At times it feels working and responsibility is what I do between times I can be with my books. It’s the reward for having a dinner cooked, a clean home, successful, happy kids. It’s such a clean and easy way to move through the hours and days and I’ve totally surrendered. So far, it’s been a book a week. Impressive for a woman who works full time, as well as side jobs and cares for a healthy, happy family.
Thus begins what will likely series of book reviews you will likely get from me. I know you love me for the body-positive and bikini pictures and while all that is truly fun, someone you have to let the Winter come and go within. I think the connections made between story tellers and readers is something we can all share in together.
Please share your book recommendations with me. Shoot me an email email@example.com