I stayed at work until almost 7 last night. Not working, mind you, reading a book. For fun. At my desk. I was so obsessed with finishing this book I couldn’t even make it home, because I would have had to walk outside in the dark and I can’t read and walk in the dark (you read that right, I do read and walk in the light sometimes).
True Life: I’m a book nerd.
I have been an obsessive reader for as long as I can remember, even before I could read by myself. My mom tells this story about how I forced her to visit Valley Forge and then forced her to read all of the signs on all of the tiny shacks to me (there are a million, and they all look exactly the same). By the age of 6 I could read extremely well, so this means I was probably younger than that (this story just totally gave away that I’m not just a book nerd, I’m a super nerd nerd. Ugh). In addition, the only time I remember getting in trouble in elementary school was because I was caught reading a “pleasure book” at my desk during class. Now that I’m older that term sounds totally gross. To this day, I blame my desk. It wasn’t the kind you lifted, but the kind you slid your stuff into it. All I had to do was reach forward and there was my book, waiting for me. I didn’t even have to pull it out all the way to be able to see it. How could I NOT read during class? Wouldn’t you want to know how Claudia Kishi, who was on a horrific babysitting job and had forgotten her kid kit and couldn’t get a hold of any of the other members of the club, not even the junior members, Mallory and Jessie, who should have always been at home because they were like 11, got out the terrible babysitting bind she was in? I needed resolution, people!
20 years later, my need for resolution has not changed. I am naturally an incredibly speedy reader. I’m not usually one to brag about my skillz, but this is really the only one that I have. Not only that, when I love something, I really really love it. I have talked in previous posts about how quickly I grow obsessed with things, and books are no exception. If a book is really good, I am basically devastated when it’s over and feel a huge void in my life until something new comes along.
This brings me to my constant problem; Towards the end of a book, do I continue to read at manic speed and find out what the heck happens OR should I slow down and rejoin the rest of the world read at a normal pace and stretch the glorious story out a few more days? I always, always choose the maniacal option. I then find myself reading random tidbits about the book on wikipedia.com to fill the gaping void my frantic book reading has left me with. It is as dramatic as it sounds, believe you me.
The book I read today was The Help by Kathryn Stocktett. It was as wonderful as everyone said it would be and you should add it to your “To Read” list. If you don’t have a to-read list, or only have a mental one and would like an interwebs version, you should go ahead and join goodreads.com. It’s like the facebook of reading, and it’s pretty awesome. I will be your friend, and you can see what I’m reading and I can see what you’re reading and you can see how many stars I gave what I just read and we can leave each other comments about it. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a book nerd, consider this your invitation to join me in my word filled world.
