I used to be such an avid reader that I often had three books on the go at once. These days my reading seems limited to science papers, student assignments, and work related documents. I hardly ever manage to read for pleasure anymore. I buy books, but then never get to them, and they taunt me from my bookshelves.
A friend on FB suggested that I try a reading challenge. So I logged into Goodreads and set one up for myself. I started later in the year, so I was realistic about what I might accomplish, I almost managed the number I’d challenged myself to. So close, two books shy.
I’m promising myself to read more for pleasure this year, both fiction and non-fiction, but particularly more fiction.
I spent the latter quarter of the year wigged out on stress and suffering for it. Now I must do better on both counts; more books, less stress. Realistically, they do go together. Reading is an escape from stress, ergo it lowers it, at least temporarily. And it’s easier on the body than drugs 😉
First up, a book I took from my Mom’s bookshelf when I was going through her things after her death…. “The Reader”, by Bernhard Schlink, 1995.
That seems, somehow, very appropriate 🙂
Don’t you think?
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