Here's how bad it is. When I finish a book, I put the book down and IMMEDIATELY go to the computer to reserve the next book at the library. THEN, for the next two or three days while I wait I become antsy and anxious. I can hardly wait to find myself wrapped up in a new little adventure! It will be a while before I will read non-fiction again. I am hooked. It all started in January with the Harry Potter series. I read each book ahead of J, telling him which chapters I would need to paraphrase due to the intensity. He trailed me along all 7 books in the series. I have never enjoyed reading so much. These books were amazingly well-written.
From there I've devoured a couple of dozen others including The Shack, The Glass Castle, On Folly Beach, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, and more. Through some of the novels I have read, I have been inspired to read more poetry, too. Plath, Wordsworth, and Thoreau to name a few. It's made all of my summer adventures so much more colorful!
Now I am diving head-long into the Mitford series. It took a few chapters for me to get going in the first book, but now I'm hooked. I'm so excited. (I know the median age for a fan of the Mitford series is probably closer to my Mother's age. What does this say about me? All I know is, I am completely entertained. (And the content is much more edifying that a certain vampire series that some of my friends are pining over! :) ) Maybe I can get the Grandmommy's club at church to go with me to a book signing in October when her new book comes out. :) ) My book list for the future is enormous. I add to like I am 9 years old and it's a Christmas list.
Several questions come to mind:
1. How does an avid reader stay in shape? If I am to get up early, I would MUCH rather read with coffee than exercise. Bummer. I guess discipline. Ick.
2. Is it strange to have a book on the passenger seat of my car for reading at the traffic lights?
3. As I am trying to maintain some form of self-control and continue to enjoy my children and other responsibilities, I find myself grabbing my current read the minute the kids are in bed. My poor husband. He does a sideways grin (fake) and says, "Wow, another book, huh?" Does this obsession kill a marriage? :)
*Pictured above: The first time in history that I have ever actually read all of the books on my bedside table! Will wonders never cease?