When I was in the halcyon days of my youth, I read. A lot.
I could be found reading on most any occasion in which I had free time. While on the bus to school, during breaks between classes, while having dinner with my family. Books were my life-blood, and I lived and breathed the written word.
As time went on, I grew less attached to books - in college, while I still read, it was no longer such a vital facet of my life. I had many other activities and entertainments to occupy, and books were just one of many.
(On occasion I would fear that I would go the way of my father, an avid reader of fiction until the age of 25 - after which he never read a book ever again.)
These days are much the same - I read when I come across a good book, and generally savor the writing rather than tear through it. I have many other stories that I enjoy - comics, games, movies, etc.
Which is why I am trying to figure out what has possessed me this last week, as I have been devouring a novel a day.
Perhaps I felt a need for some works of fiction that had an element of completeness, rather than the ongoing serial nature of most webcomics. Perhaps this was in part due to a visit to a local overstock book store, with dangerously low prices on all manner of works.
And perhaps it has simply been one of those lazy summer weeks in Maryland, a mix of warmth and rain, sun and shade, and not much else to do than sit around... and read.
In any case, I suspect I have little to fear of following in my father's footsteps. And I confess, it has been appealing to lose myself in books, as I have not done so completely in quite some time.
Sometimes a change in the usual can be a nice refresher. I suspect I'll return to my usual pace and usual habits - but the change from the ordinary, however brief, was welcome nonetheless.
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