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As you may be able to tell by my continued love for Sammy and Emmett, I am not particularly choosy about what I read. I tend to have three or four books going at the same time: There's the young adult best-seller open on my old e-reader (the one that I don't mind sweating on) which is propped on the book stand of my elliptical. Another, this one an actual book with pages and everything so that if I drop it there's no damage, is on my bedside table to lull me to asleep. A third is pulled up on the iPad for evening reading and still another (this one also a paper-paged version) is in my travel bag so that if my e-readers run out of steam during a trip I don't have to go cold turkey.
If you think this seems like a wee bit of hop-toad attention span, you are absolutely correct. Every time I dive back into one of the books I have to remind myself where I was and what the characters are doing. This is especially a problem when one of the books reaches a critical plot point, one that has me thinking of the book when I'm not actually reading it. Then I'm all "What? Where did Hannah go? And why is the heroine named Taylor now?" When I get to this crucial part of the book, all bets are off. The book, or the iPad, or the Nook, suddenly is carried with me everywhere as I race through pages to find out WHODUNIT? AND WHY? OH MY GOSH!
Today I made a wonderful/terrible discovery: It's possible to pull up the latest book I'm reading on my office computer. That means that whatever I'm reading is only a click away, so much more enticing than the budget I'm perusing or the brochure I'm proofreading.
But because I'm a grown-up, and I really do like my job, I will resist the urge to sign in to find out why Mark is being such an utter jerk. As soon as I had taken today's photo I signed off of my account and I won't get onto it again. I'll console myself with memories of days gone by:
It's feeding time at the zoo. All the animals must be fed.
When I was first dating my husband, he was mildly horrified to find I almost continually read several books at a time. Before meeting him, it never even occurred to me that everyone doesn't do that because both my parents were the same: partially read books all over the place to be picked up and finished or continued whenever the mood for that particular kind of book struck. I mean sometimes I'm in the mood for nonfiction, sometimes for zombies, sometimes another genre altogether.
ReplyDeleteI seem to have passed this on to my children who also have various random books going at the same time. Poor Husband is now officially outnumbered ;-)