The DNF Doubt

First of all, I only learned what the acronym DNF (did not finish) stands for within the last year. I had to look it up because I’m at that awkward age where I’m a millennial but I don’t know all the lingo the kids are using these days. Anyway, DNF hadn’t been a part of my vocabulary not only because I didn’t know what it meant, but because I used to be the type of reader who couldn’t fathom not finishing a book (except Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood…sorry Ms. Tucker!) Ok, there were two others that fit the rare DNF category, but in my defense they were Jonathan Swift and Nathaniel Hawthorne and I was 8-years-old. My mom was a proponent of letting me pick up books she knew I wouldn’t understand and letting me figure out for myself that I was not smart enough yet to get them.

Other than those three rare occasions, I was never a DNFer. How could I possibly put down a book I’d started without giving it a chance? How could I truly judge its quality without reading all the way through? And what if even after 100 pages of nothing, I missed something truly incredible? I couldn’t not finish a book, no matter how boring or bad it was. Besides, what did it matter if it wasted my time? I had time to waste.

Alas, I am no longer the carefree student with time on my hands and a dwindling bookshelf. Now I’m a responsible adult who has to divide my time carefully between all the things I want to do, read, watch, listen to, etc. And my bookshelf? Double-stacked from top to bottom and I’ve barely made a dent in the last five years. Time can no longer be wasted. Therefore, I decided to no longer waste time on books that just don’t do it for me. I can proudly say in the past year I’ve DNFed two books! And one I stuck around with because “well I already started it and I’m more than halfway through and it’s for my reading challenge I might as well finish it.”

I did it again. I let the DNF doubt drag me down into another non-enjoyable book that I gave nothing but excuses. It’s like I’m in a bad relationship with my book boyfriend. Take my advice, readers. Don’t do this to yourselves. If a book isn’t sparking your interest, or if it’s making you mad or any other negative feeling, don’t hate read or try to give it the benefit of the doubt. Just let it go. There are so many good books out there waiting to be read, and we do not have time to waste on those that do not give us joy.

Set a standard if you have to, whether it’s determining how many pages in you can go before you decide enough’s enough, or taking notes and reviewing how it makes you feel. Just figure out a way to let yourself know it’s time to get out and move on.

Advertisements

Audio Books! Can I Get An Amen?

I started listening to audio books a little over a year ago, hesitant to take on the endeavor because I thought, “I can’t possibly pay attention to a story if I’m listening to it.” Of course, that logic is flawed because that’s how I used to take in stories when I was a kid, before I knew how to read. What opened me up to the idea of audio books was actually podcasts. Once I started listening to things like Limetown Stories, Welcome to Nightvale, Wolf 359 and a plethora more, I realized I did in fact have the capability to multitask when it comes to paying attention to stories audibly.

I started with re-reads, as I figured it’d be easier to listen to a story I was already familiar with, so if I miss a line or two, I wouldn’t be totally lost. Cassandra Clare’s The Mortal Instruments series is where I dove in to the audio book scene. While I recovered from my LASIK eye surgery a couple of months ago, I voraciously ate up Pride & Prejudice through Spotify and listened to Amy Poehler narrate her memoir Yes Please on Overdrive through my library. Slowly I became more comfortable with listening to audio books and taking care of such tasks as scrolling through Twitter and catching up on emails. Long car rides are also an ideal setting for audio books.

I started a new job last month and I can only listen to so many podcast episodes before I’m all caught up and have nothing left to listen to. I ventured into Playster and decided to give new books a try, now that I was a more skilled multitasker with enhanced listening abilities. Once again, Cassandra Clare came to my rescue with Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy and The Bane Chronicles. Honestly, I marvel at my ability to write about traffic school and listen to the enthralling voices of Chris Wood and Keahu Kahuanui all at the same time. Also, hearing the chilling encounters in World War Z helped me get through the day writing about vital records (it’s a thing; go look it up).

Now as I work I am finally getting into another classic that’s been on my TBR list since 10th grade: Jane Austen’s Emma. British narrators are possibly the best, in my opinion. The wonderful thing about audio books, and I’ve saved this best part for last, is I can add them to my Goodreads count of books read! Why is this so exciting for me? Because on top of starting a new job last month, I also started grad school, which means I’ve had no time whatsoever to do leisure reading. Audio books have changed the game though.

I used to be one of those people who thought, “Audio books don’t really count,” because I had that notion that one can’t really pay attention to them. I have been proven wrong and seen the light. Listening to audio books is just an enhanced way of reading. It’s engaging, entertaining and it definitely counts. Audio books are a full-time worker grad student’s best friend. Hallelujah!

Meagan Reads YA Sci-Fi: Delirium by Lauren Oliver

Read this book for the 26 book reading challenge I started a couple of years ago and am still chugging through for the category “a book set in summer.” The whole novel takes place in Portland, Maine in the summer before a life-changing event takes place in the main character’s life.

Quick summary that includes spoilers, so read at your own risk. The premise is that this takes place in a future in which the disease of amor deliria nervosa has been eradicated through a procedure that U.S. citizens undergo when they come of age. So, a special kind of surgery targets the part of the brain that processes and let’s you express emotions related to love.

Lena is a typical teenage girl who enjoys running with her best friend Hannah and can’t wait to undergo the procedure and escape her past: being the daughter of the woman who committed suicide due to falling ill with the delirium. Lena follows the rules and wants to fit into her society until, wait for it, she meets a boy named Alex.

Overall, the idea of this society is interesting and captivating, but I think I’m definitely well past my young adult years, because the nauseating young love oh my god I can’t live without you after having just met you and I hardly know you trope makes me roll my eyes so hard. The whole story and character’s development hinges on this stereotype, but my biggest problem with it is how heteronormative it is.

The point of the procedure is to eradicate falling in love, but everything rides on the idea that only boys and girls fall in love with each other. The society even has rules that doesn’t allow boys and girls to have too much interaction prior to their procedures, to reduce the possibility of falling ill. At this point, I’m over books and stories that perpetuate the idea that only heterosexuals fall in love and no other kind of people even exist. It’s 2017. Get with the times please.

However, maybe it was my mind trying to read too much into it, but I felt a sort of queer element from Hannah. They were best friends, and the way she acts toward Lena and wanting her to break free from society’s restraints always felt like Hannah trying to push her friend to the realization of how she really felt about Lena. In the end, when Lena rebels for Alex, and Lena asks her best friend to run away with them, Hannah let’s her go and says she’s not actually brave enough. That whole relationship felt to me like Hannah was always in love with Lena, but Lena never realized it, and Hannah didn’t want to ruin things for her.

I appreciated the strong use of religion to establish this totalitarian government’s rhetoric behind the eradication of love. That is something that actually translates into real-life as is often seen in the U.S.’s politics with a blurred line between Church and State. Each chapter opens with a passage from the Book of Shhh, which is sort of like their constitution and bible. If the chapter doesn’t open with a passage from that book, it opens with lines from some kind of banned literature such as Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet, or other poetry and novels that elevate the concept of love.

Another relevant element in this story is how police brutality is seen through Lena’s eyes. With her conditioning, she at first believes the law enforcement is there to protect the country’s citizens from themselves. When she falls to the deliria though and goes through each act of rebellion and becomes a victim of the patrollers, she finds they actually enjoy using extreme force and violence to bring criminals to justice. Lena’s description of her encounter with the police shows her thinking that the cure doesn’t eradicate all emotions, because hate and violence are still prevalent. This leads to the revelation that maybe love isn’t the problem. Love isn’t what makes people go mad and do terrible, chaotic and destructive things. That’s just people.

I’ll end this summary and review with a technical and structural choice the writer made and I think did well. The whole book is written in present tense, which is actually harder than it sounds. There’s a reason most books are written in past tense (in English at least). It’s just one of those things that feels and comes more naturally to our language. Oliver’s choice to write third person limited in present tense makes for an engaging story that brings the audience into the moment and feel like we know what Lena knows. It’s a structure that helps you feel the urgency of every situation, and it’s probably what kept me reading the whole book and look past the love story that I found cliche.

All in all, the book entertains and keeps you intrigued, but I didn’t feel a particular investment in any of the characters, and I don’t feel compelled to pick up the next installment.

Meagan Reads YA Fantasy: The Demon King by Cinda Williams Chima

I’m going into my third year of the 26 book reading challenge (I’m a slow reader–sue me). For book 17, “a book by an author you love,” I went with Cinda Williams Chima’s The Demon King since I loved her Heir series.

A quick rundown of the story. It follows the lives of two characters: Raisa, the princess of the realm with a spunky attitude, and Han, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks just trying to get by. While Raisa is blissfully unaware of the injustices of the kingdom and dealing with her mother wanting to marry her off as soon as she comes of age, Han is trying to avoid his old gang life but still make an honest living by selling and trading to provide for his family.

In my Goodreads review, I said fans of Tamora Pierce’s Trickster duology or Bekah Cooper series would like this book, and that’s because it’s got classic fantasy elements with magic and wizards and political intrigue. The world building feels grounded in reality though, especially with the clan of Marissa Pines, a village outside of Fellsmarch, the royal city. There’s a clear dichotomy throughout the novel with the princess heir being of the rich elite living in the castle in the city, and Han being a foster child of the humble clans folk living off the land. Overall, it’s the equivalent of European colonialists versus the natives of the country.

I loved the descriptions Chima creates with how the clans people live, in tight knit communities that are in commune with natural remedies and trading goods for goods. It reminded me a lot of the smaller villages and towns I visited during my vacation to Ecuador 6 years ago. I could hear the crackling of the fires as the characters held meetings and shared stories under the open sky, surrounded by woods.

Throughout the whole book, I kept trying to unravel the mysteries that kept popping up with each new revelation. The reader learns things through the eyes of Raisa and Han, so when a new detail is brought to light that surprises or confuses them, you can’t help but feel blindsided too. There’s a parallel to the two characters in how they learn about the world they’ve been a part of this whole time was built on lies. For Han, he comes to feel like he can’t trust the people he grew up with or cares for, while Raisa starts to realize she’s far too ignorant of the strife going on around her in her own queendom. You can’t help but feel the pangs of coming of age, at that moment where you start to see things as an adult would, and not yet being ready for that responsibility.

In this world that Chima has created, there is a legend of an ancestral queen, Hanalea, who is abducted by the Demon King, a wizard, and forced to sacrifice her life for the greater good of the people. It is this legend that founds the people’s beliefs, and why the clan holds control of magic for wizards, allowing them the use of it through talismans for brief periods of time. The wizards serve the line of Hanalea, and thus royalty and magic can never marry.

Of course, as is apt to happen, some people don’t want to play by these rules anymore. This is where all the lies come undone little by little, and Raisa and Han must now make their decisions and judgments based on new truths, breaking from everything they’ve ever known. Wizards are dangerously close to regaining their old power, the clan is not as righteous as the legends would have it, Raisa and her royal line are in danger of extinction, and Han would rather have nothing to do with any of it but somehow is in the middle of all of it.

I’d have to say my biggest criticism of the book is its pacing. Especially in the beginning, it’s quite stop and go and you wish the narration would just pick a speed and stick with it for a while. The way the story reads at times is clumsy and expository, clearly setting the whole thing up for the next book. There’s lots of background information that’s conveyed through character dialogue, but it’s scenes in which the characters are specifically sitting down to have a meeting or talk, making it feel like the writer just couldn’t figure out how else to portray these details.

In conjunction with the pacing, and the fact that the reader knows this is book one of a series, Han’s and Raisa’s stories take way too long to intersect. Obviously, as each chapter jumps back and forth between them, we know they’re going to meet and have some kind of connection to one another eventually, but it wasn’t until about halfway through the book that the connection happens. And even then, there’s only 1 or 2 chapters in which they’re tied together before being severed into their individual lines again. This made the novel feel a bit fractured, so at times it was frustrating trying to read through. But overall, an excellent tale with many twists and fun characters.

Reluctant Romantic

I’ve read Pride & Prejudice and was smitten. All Cassandra Clare books? Fell like a sucker. I watch The Vampire Diaries and am a hardcore Delena shipper. I openly admit that watching A Walk to Remember still makes me ugly sob. So what is it about the romance genre label that keeps me at bay?

I’m obviously a sucker for a good love story. Hello, grew up on Disney movies, of course I love love. I live for the warm and fluffy feelings of seeing couples come together and live happily ever after. I gushed over Olicity on Arrow (and was heartbroken when they didn’t last) and I still firmly believe Destiel is end game on Supernatural.

It’s not all about the romance in romance novels though. As is bound to come with hand holding and kisses is the sex. I’m certainly no prude. I watched True Blood (with my mother, no less), so I’m clearly comfortable with awkward, sexual situations in my fiction.

Perhaps there’s still a part of my mind that resists due to prior stigmas of romance novels being trashy literature. But I know now the negative perception of the genre and how it correlates with viewing all things feminine with disdain, and knowing is half the battle.

Still, I can’t let myself pick up books with titles like Rough and Ready or Take A Ride. I read Twin of Fire and Twin of Ice by Jude Deveraux and thought those were okay. I barely remember Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Fantasy Lover, only that the sex scenes made me roll my eyes and snort. I can’t possibly take these books seriously.

But why do I need to take them seriously? For crying out loud, one of my favorite shows features an archer that let’s loose arrows that turn into parachutes! Maybe when I’m reading the situations these romance novels unravel, they seem too unlikely to ever happen for real. Then again, I was forced to accept analyzing key strokes as a legitimate method of finding out corporate espionage, so perhaps realistic standards are not the problem.

I’m thinking what it all comes down to in the end, is I simply haven’t found the right romance read for me yet. I probably spent so many years adamantly resisting the notion of liking girly things, that even now, with all the wisdom and education I’ve gained, I’m still a little obstinate in my views of “trashy” books. I hope that changes someday, but for now, I’ll continue to consume my passion for passion through TV, movies, classics and YA reads.

Meagan Reads Classics: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

As part of the 26 book reading challenge I’ve been participating in for about a year now (I’m such a slow reader these days), I chose to read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte for the category “a book that’s over 10 years old.”

A quick summary of the novel: Jane Eyre is an orphan growing up in her aunt’s household, but she is not treated as part of the family. She’s sent to a boarding school for what’s considered charity cases, like Jane, where she learns to adhere to strict conduct, but does find some friends along the way. She grows up to be well educated and goes on to become a governess in a wealthy man’s estate, teaching and caring for his young ward, Adele.

Over the course of her time there, Mr. Edward Fairfax Rochester–the master of the estate–falls in love with Jane, and she with him. They are set to be married except she finds out a terrible secret that sets her running away from the house and she leaves to be independent.

Let’s start from the top and talk about Jane’s cousin John Reed. Man, this kid is a real jerk of the worst kind. He’s entitled and violent and basically the epitome of what the patriarchy stands for. So much so, his own mother, Jane’s Aunt Reed, makes excuses for his violent outbursts and rude behavior. Yes, dear aunt Reed places blame on Jane, saying she brings John’s anger upon herself by being such a weirdo, hiding in the curtains and spending her days reading instead of being joyful and smiling and dignified like a young lady should be.

I’m sure this sounds like a similar story many of you out there have experienced or heard before. That’s because it is. It’s the story that continues to this day, right down to the highest powers that be in our own country. When women don’t behave the way the patriarchal society expects them to, it’s their fault men get mad and lose control. Wow, and this book was written 200 years ago. What a world.

When we find the Reeds and Jane engaging in a skirmish, as Jane hits John for trying to hit and hurt her, Aunt Reed punishes Jane by leaving her in the red room, as the tenants of the house call it. It’s her late Uncle Reed’s room where he was said to have passed and still haunt. And Jane is absolutely terrified to be left alone in the dark in that room. So much so, she throws a huge scene, screaming, sobbing and begging to be let out. She makes promises of becoming a better child if only they’ll let her out. Her Aunt Reed takes the hysterics to be nothing but a brat trying to get her way. Jane sees an apparition, or so it seems from her description, and she’s so scared she faints.

After this episode, this is basically when Aunt Reed says it’s the last straw and sends her away to Lowood Hall, a boarding school for wayward orphan charity cases. Here, Jane must adhere to strict codes and learn to blend in so as not to call attention to herself, except the headmaster has different plans. Having taken her Aunt Reed’s side in things, Mr. Brocklehurst decides to announce to the whole school how Jane is a liar and evil and must be shunned from their society. She is simply there to learn and be out of her aunt’s house.

There’s definitely a Matilda-esque thing going on here. A bully headmaster who has it out for the heroine. In comes Helen Burns, another girl who’s bookish like Jane and befriends her despite the headmaster’s warnings. And the teacher Ms. Temple who is this book’s Ms. Honey.

Ms. Temple let’s Jane explain herself to the students so that they may make up their own minds about her free of Mr. Brocklehurst’s influence. Helen and Jane develop a very close relationship, one like that of sisters, so of course–SPOILER ALERT–it’s heartbreaking when it’s revealed that Helen is dying of consumption.

Despite the tragedy that befalls Jane yet again, having lost her first and only friend she’s ever known, Ms. Temple and the other teachers begin to treat her like an equal among her fellow students. Having the chance to learn in a stress free environment and shown compassion and understanding, she flourishes and becomes an adept student who learns quickly and excels in her studies for the remaining years. She in fact becomes a teacher at Lowood once she turns 18 and has graduated from her courses.

There’s a poignant commentary being made throughout all these goings on that children who are not frightened or abused will eventually go on to become well-adjusted and smart adults. Again, this sounds familiar in our own present day, but the concept of giving kids a chance to be themselves and learn in a safe and comfortable environment is a battle that’s been going on for more than 200 years.

What struck me most about Jane’s growth and change from the time she was a child to the time she became an adult, is that while she kept a fiery and feisty attitude inwardly, outside she portrayed a composed and acceptable persona that would not be looked at twice. She learned to play the game society had set forth for women, and she learned it well. At one point though, it seems she learned it too well. There’s moments when we see Jane struggle with her desire to be true to herself and conform to what would be deemed appropriate for a woman of her station.

Let’s move on to Mr. Rochester. Here’s where things really start to get melodramatic. She goes to work for this man to be a governess to his ward, Adele, who is said to be his illegitimate daughter, but he does not acknowledge her as his kin. Not a complete monster though, he agreed to take her in and have her cared for. Congratulations, Rochester, you’re not as big of a jerk as you could’ve been.

There’s a whole series of shenanigans that ensue with an elite socialite Miss Blanche Ingram, whom Rochester is set to marry, except he doesn’t want to because he knows she only wants him for his money, but he doesn’t want to be a bachelor anymore because he’s already 40 and needs a wife. Enter Jane. His ward’s governess whom he finds charming, intelligent and a worthy partner to match his own mind and character.

Dear sweet, 18-year-old Jane, in turn falls for Mr. Rochester as well. Arrangements are broken off with Ms. Ingram and Jane is now set to marry Mr. Rochester. Except for one tiny little kind of important detail. Mr. Rochester is already married. And his wife lives in the very house they’ve all been residing in this whole time.

A woman named Grace Poole, whom Jane thought the entire time was the culprit in many a mischievous scheme throughout the novel, is in fact Mrs. Rochester’s keeper. Mrs. Rochester, see, is certifiably insane. It’s at the altar just as he and Jane are about to be married that this information comes to light.

Mr. Rochester weaves a tale of woe, betrayal and lies. How he was tricked into marrying this savage Creole monstress (no lies that’s basically how she’s described–not even gonna get into the blatant racism of the times) by his father, brother and her brother, because of keeping the family name honorable by aligning himself with the Mason family. And then how he had to keep his promise because he’s a man of honor, but he refused to acknowledge her as his wife, but he’d keep her and have her cared for. Boy, he’s in the habit of shouldering such heavy burdens. What a saint.

At this point, Jane decides she can’t marry him, because it wouldn’t be right. It doesn’t matter that his wife’s crazy and violent and not really his wife in the sense of the word. She recognizes that Mr. Rochester needed her to rid himself of that woman once and for all. When she refuses to hear his apologies and give him another chance, he threatens violence on her, violence on himself, and then once more pleads forgiveness for his rash behavior, as it’s only because his love for Jane drives him mad with obsession.

Jane struggles to leave Mr. Rochester, as she wants to believe him, and she still loves him, but she knows it’s best to be gone. Wow, it’s unreal how something written two centuries ago can still sound so relevant to our society and relationships today. The manipulation of abusive significant others. The struggle to leave that person behind. And it still continues today. It almost feels like it will always persist.

So, Jane decides to leave in the dead of night, with 20 pounds in her purse and the clothes on her back. Much occurs over the next 36 hours. She ends up in a town with no money and no way to eat, looking for someone who can help her find work and build a new life. Just when she’s on the verge of starvation and fragile as a porcelain doll, she happens on the steps of the Rivers residence. Here, St. John Rivers takes pity and lets her inside to be cared for until she regains strength to tell her story.

Here, Jane tells him and his two sisters the bare bones. She’s gone from the home she’s known for a few years, and has no where else to turn, so she must fend for herself. She only asks a chance to do honest work and help in finding that work. St. John finds her skills useful as his local school house is in need of a head mistress to teach the farmers’ children. Jane takes the job and stays in this town for quite some time.

During that time, St. John takes a liking to her, but eventually finds out the truth of her name, and this is when it’s revealed that another uncle of hers had recently passed away, but before he did he left her with a fortune. Turns out that uncle was also St. John’s and his sisters’ uncle, so that makes the Rivers family her cousins. Oh joy! She finally has a real family she cares for and that cares for her.

Here’s the thing though. St. John is set to take up the life of a missionary, and he wants Jane to marry and accompany him as his wife (yeah let’s not talk about that incest either otherwise this post will go on forever). She says she can accompany him on missionary work, but that she can’t in good conscience be his wife, because she does not love him in that way and he does not love her. He merely is looking for someone to share his life’s work with as a fellow servant to God. Jane’s all for that. Just not as a wife.

Try as he might to convince her that this is the best path she can take, and one in which God has set for her, she will not take the bait. She considers it for a moment, but in the end recognizes there is no romance between them. It would be a marriage of convenience. St. John doesn’t take the no very gracefully and basically gives her the cold shoulder all through his remaining time in their home. Once again, an older man (he’s 30-years-old) tries to tell Jane what’s best for her, and when Jane says she knows what’s best for her, he gets salty.

Fast forwarding to the end when Jane feels a longing to return to Mr. Rochester and find out what happened to him, she ventures back to Thornfield Hall to find it burned down. Turns out the crazy wife took the place out and herself with him. How convenient. Although, Rochester lost a hand and his eyesight in the disaster, so I guess, just desserts?

Jane finds her way back to Mr. Rochester, and he has been humbled by his predicament, living away in the woods as a hermit with only two servants to care for him and Adele sent to a boarding school. Jane is softened by this shell of a man and decides to stay with him and forgives him. He asks her to marry him again, and she agrees to it, because she never stopped loving him.

I had a huge problem with this ending. Jane is deceived by this man who puts too much stock in the good standing of a family name and cherishes the finer things in life. He undergoes a disaster after she’s gone and shut himself away from the world to find himself. Conveniently, he’s no longer legally married because his wife died in the fire she set. And he’s a better man now that he’s known suffering. It was all just too neat and I feel like it negated much of what Jane’s character is, which is a strong, independent woman who always rejected social standings and expectations. In the end though, as I said before, she learned the game too well, and fell for her own facade, I feel.

There’s actually so much more to discuss with this book, but if I keep going on about how Jane is a great teacher for recognizing that all children learn differently and should be given the chance to learn in their own way, or how the two men that claimed to love her really wanted to claim her as property, we’ll be here all night.

Don’t take my cynicism to mean that it’s not a worthwhile read. It’s actually a book I’d recommend to those looking to read more classics. Just know there will be a great deal of frustration with how things played out sometimes.

One Book At A Time

I am drowning in a sea of things to read. My double stacked book shelves taunt me with their tomes. My Goodreads TBR list laughs at my folly. And my kindle glares at me as I time and time again pass it over for a physical text.

When did it get to be so hard to read? As a kid, I breezed through the Harry Potter series, finishing an entire book in 2 nights (would’ve been 1 if mom hadn’t insisted I sleep). It wasn’t just Harry Potter. Anne of Green Gables was my go to for a while, and I stopped counting how many times I’d read it after reaching 10. Goosebumps was devoured book by book within a day.

drowning-in-books
My latest haul from Second Edition Book Shop

So, what happened? Well, I’m an adult now. I have a job that takes up 8 hours of my day. I like to exercise and dedicate some down time to catching up on television after work. Then there’s dinner. Then I need to set aside time for writing. What’s left for reading? A half hour before bed and weekends (when I’m not doing things).

Even when I have free weekends with 20-hour days to fill with reading, I don’t. I just can’t anymore. I used to sit in my bedroom for hours on end just reading, my eyes roving over the page like a typewriter set on high speed. Now, I read for an hour, maybe two tops, and I’ve gotta get up and do something else. There’s blogs to follow (thanks, Book Riot). More television to catch up on (listen I watch a lot of shows don’t judge me). And then, oh yeah, just getting out of the house and seeing sunlight while I can.

I haven’t even mentioned the distraction of social media. Between cat videos on Instagram, Twitter rants and a constantly refreshing Facebook feed, it’s enough to drive someone insane. When did our lives become so cluttered? It’s great to have all this connection, but at the same time, it’s so overwhelming I eventually feel disconnected.

And that’s when I return to reading. I try not to let my shelves and TBR list daunt me. I remind myself, “One book at a time.” Just take it one read at a time. Sure, I can’t possibly read every book in the world (challenge accepted!), but I can certainly try. What are we if we don’t have dreams?