Ramblings of a Book Person.

abandoned bookshop To read or not to read, THAT is the question.

Trick question though! To read is always the answer, at least for me. I’m on those firm believers  in always having a good book on your nightstand and one in your backpack (or whichever your preferred method of transporting your stuff is.).

I’ve recently come to a crossroads that has made me rethink everything I’ve ever believed in when it comes to reading. Nearly 2 months ago I purchased and started reading the book I am still reading now. 2 MONTHS AGO! It’s never taken me 2 months to read anything in my life. I’ve been actively reading it too. On the tram in the mornings when I don’t ride my bike to work, in bed until Jack turns off the lights, during a sunday picnic in the park, at the beach in Ocean Grove, in Peggy Sue in Blairgowrie. I’m talking everywhere. I have somehow still not finished it. It feels like the never ending book even it’s only 480 pages, which doesn’t even come close to the thickness that is the Luminers. (My next book!) (Coming in at 828 pages. )

Some people can simply put a book down if they can’t get into it after the first chapter. Some people (“jack”) even throw other people’s books (“mine”) into burning fires because of one lousy comment about the main character.

I am not one of these people. I’d like to be an author myself someday and I know how much hard work goes into every line of a book, so I feel I must read them front to back. I must highlight and re-read and look up words/phrases I don’t know.

So I’ve been trying real hard with this book because I know that other people have liked it, I know the author is a fabulous writer with an entire backlog of gorgeously loved books. But after giving all i’ve got trying to enjoy this book, I have decided that it’s okay and I don’t have to. 100 pages in was not okay. 200 pages in and ehh. But while I was re-reading page 394 all I could think was Oh, all the things I could have read in the meantime.

I have absolutely no idea what’s going on the book anyway. Maybe I’ve completely missed the plot, maybe it’s all gone over my head, but I assure you I’ve gone back to try and find it. That’s about all I can really do.

Please excuse this eulogy to my book. It’s just a way of getting rid of my guilty conscious as I lay the book to rest.

I don’t even know where to lay it though, I don’t deserve to have it displayed on my bookshelf. It would be a lie.

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