I have a confession. While I may possess a grand imagination that allows me to see in great detail the finer points of tales read, I tend to read too little.
I love books. I always have. I love the look of the paper and the text, the texture and the weight of the bindings, the way these miniture, portals to other worlds look sitting all grouped together on shelves. I love to page through books admiring the silkiness of the paper or the serifs on the fonts. I love the ideas, the knowledge and the far fetched tails that are contained between the carefully laid out designs of the covers. But, I only (at best) like to read.
I don't know what it is. I love the book itself, but not necessarily the actual purpose for which it was intended.
Now, don't get me wrong. I have always read, just not a lot in the form of novels. I can say I have always had a book on the go. As in I've been reading the same book for 3 years or more. More often than not I will pick up a book laying around the house and read a couple of chapters, just to set it down and to never see hide nor hair of that book again.
I have gotten caught up in a few books here and there. Finishing a 300 page book in 2 days. I'm always impressed with myself when this happens. Unfortunately these instances are always few and far between.
In early Dec (2010) after just seeing the first instalment of the last ever Harry Potter movie (for the second time) I decided that I needed to have the entire series read before the finial piece of the saga unfolded in front of me in film form. I just felt I needed to have that experience. You know, the one where you have completely invisioned how something will play out, and then boom, the film makers decided they didn't need that piece of the tale.
Now, truth be told, I had always felt a little silly about being a grown adult reading books intended for 9-12 year olds. But hey, all the cool kids are doing it, right?
So, I stared reading. I did own 3 of the 7 books already, having only worked my way through the first book and only about a third of the way through the second book. And this was a few years ago.
Through out December I made my way through (1)“The Philosopher's Stone”, (2)“The Chamber of Secrets”, (3)“The Prison of Azkaban” and (4)“The Goblit of Fire” (finishing #4 on New Years Eve). By this point reading instead of constantly refreshing facebook or watching endless YouTube vlogs had become part of my routine. So I decided that I should continue this new nightly habit long after I learned the last of the secrets of the Deathly Hallows.
At first I was going to have a minimum amount of pages per day. Then it was a minimum amount of time. But really, I think just to continue my mental voyage through the words of others is good enough. Maybe I'll complete the 50 book challange I have seen on other peoples blogs. Time will tell.
