I grew up the daughter to an avid reader and we spent a ton of time at the local library. We’d get a pile of books apiece, and the whole process is a memory I hold dearly. My sister and mom and I would spill out of the car and head into the library where we’d peruse the shelves for an hour or so. I’d spend time looking for picture books (and later chapter books) in the children’s area, then I’d play one of their two gaming computers if we had time, or I’d play with some of the toys and board games they had available. Sometimes I’d lay in the fiction shelves while my mom slowly shopped, not complaining, but rather enjoying the cavernous, dark secret feeling the shelves seemed to give me. We’d take our books to the front desk where we’d be checked out and I’d relax in the car while we drove the 15 minutes home, my only concern being the decision I had before me of which book to read first.
My mom would take my sister and I along with her to the school where she worked in the summers so she could set up her classroom and sometimes we’d be there in the mornings before school or afternoons after school. When she taught in a classroom I loved lounging in the reading area she had set up for her students, and I’d browse the shelves of books she had. The pickings got better when she became the librarian at the elementary school, and when she moved to become the librarian at the middle and high school I had even more to choose from.
When we’d run errands my mom, sister and I would always carry a book along with us. After the boring stuff was over my mom would sometimes treat us to lunch somewhere, and would ask if we’d rather have conversation or if we’d rather all read over our meals. We’d do both…. sometimes reading and sometimes talking about what we were reading.
In the summers any of us could be found around the yard or on the desk chilling out with a book, and in the winter we’d cuddle on the couches our on the floor with a blanket hovered over the registers in the floor, book in hand.
We’ve just always been readers. We were always reading, a book ever our sidekick. (cute, huh?)
When I got into college I just didn’t have as much time to read anymore, and after graduation I rediscovered the library when I applied for a position there again. I was living with Nate by then, and I’d bring home stacks of 8-10 books every few weeks. I applied for graduate school 6 months later and between that, planning our wedding, and buying and building our house, my reading tapered off. Then I started having kids and the reading tapered off even more.
In the past year or so I’ve picked up on my reading a little more, and it’s really satisfying. I’ve started participating in an online book club at work and have been taking advantage of my Goodreads list as well.
I do wish I read faster and had more time to read. It feels like I never finish a book in less than three weeks. I’ve been working on “A Game of Thrones” for the past three months. It is so good! I am listening to it on CD in my car, and I have the paperback on my nightstand and the eBook on my phone. I’m just about finish it… I’m 5 pages away from the end of the last chapter. Now I have to decide: do I start on book 2, knowing it will take me a long time to read it as well? Or do I take a break and focus on easier reads? I’m leaning towards starting it immediately, because I don’t know how I’d wait!
I think I’m going to make a reading goal next year to read 20 books. I’ll try to read each book club book and a few extras in between or overlapping. Wish me luck!