30 July 2009

words

I used to read every word I came across. Interesting, boring, fascinating, I read them all. My question was: does it contain words? If so, I read it. Back of the cereal box? Read that. Theological magazine that happened to be on the desk? Read that. Poorly written book about something I didn't care about? Read that, too.*

Even during law school, I had a book propped up on the bathroom counter while I curled my hair. "If you don't read in law school," we were warned ominously when we started, "you will never pick up reading again."** No problem there. I read several non-law books a week during law school, even during exams.

I still read an awful lot of words every day. Most of my books end up with crinkled pages because I hunch over them while I take out my contacts and contact solution splashes onto them. I have easily 500 blogs that I read regularly to semi-regularly. I read books at a pace of one every one or two or three days, even with work and exercising and having friends. I don't read everything anymore, though. If a book is poorly written, I cast it aside. I haven't bothered with the side of my Nature's Path*** cereal box (admittedly, though, I am always reading a book while slurping up my cereal). I have books on my actual bookshelf, mostly books I picked up on the clearance second-hand table at That Big Bookstore, that I have not read. Some of them have been there for entire months.

Shall we just pretend that I have become more discriminating in the things I read?

The problem is the library, the wonderful, wonderful library. Also, the internet. Not because I spend too much time on the internet (although I do), but because the internet suggests so very many books to me. Every time someone on the internet mentions a book or I read an interesting article by someone who wrote a book, I put it on hold at the library. And the books just keep coming. I picked up two today and another one will be there tomorrow. Even I, voracious reader of the beautiful words, cannot keep up. After all, I also have 500 people's lives to keep up on. So now, if a book takes too long to get into and the three week loan period comes up, it goes back to the library unread. I can't even renew them, most of the time, because there are people in line behind me to read them.

There is a little part of me that feels guilty about this. I am missing out on potentially readable WORDS. It is practically against my moral principles to miss words that could be read. On the other hand, not all writing is well-done, and I am reading more on a wider variety of topics here than ever before. I love this library. If I knew how to take a screen-shot of my Hold list at the library, I would. I read books about religion and atheism, politics, international development, humanitarian law, how feminism has killed off love and passion, the Quiverfull movement, how the "purity myth" is oppressing young women in the US, careers, adoption, Mormonism, travel, Africa, the South Pacific, blogging, and really, anything else that sounds even moderately interesting.

Come to think of it, I really don't miss the days when I was so hard up for words to read that I read cereal boxes. Nor do I miss the days in Rwanda when I read each of my twenty or so books at least 20 times. Nor do I miss the days in Southern Sudan when I read each of my six books twenty or so times. (Dear Anne Lamott: Blue Shoe is possibly the best book every written, and it kept me alive in Southern Sudan, but I'm sorry, I haven't been able to read it since. I think after the 25th or so reading, I needed a break.)

* I drew the first line, I think, at the Purp0se-Dr1ven L1fe. Man, that book sucked. I had never before encountered such awful writing. Tip: Get a ghost-writer, please. Then there was The D@v1nc1 C0de. Worst writing ever. The dialogue... It physically pains me to remember it.
** I think they were assuming you would work insanely long hours at a law firm. If you are me, and you skip that route entirely, there is plenty of time for reading. The trade-off is that you are perpetually broke.
*** Heritage Whole Grain flakes. So delicious. And to think, in college I ate Lucky Charms three meals a day. (NO, why would I be kidding?) The thought of that kind of sweetness now kind of makes me want to barf. Apparently taste buds do grow up. Exhibit B: the raspberries and blueberries that I am now SNARFING. I grew up hating berries.
...

Now I have to go pack. I am leaving tomorrow morning for three new states (!!), one of which includes Yellowstone National Park, a place that has been shamefully missing from my travels thus far. I shall not internet, though, for an entire week. I don't think.

1 comment:

Missy said...

Omg, I too hated the D@v!nc! Code!!! Hated hated hated! It was terrible! I feel all giddy to know you hated it too! Hooray bad-book hate! :)