I'm not sure how this happened. I am busy still, and seem to have less time than before, but I'm reading again.
Not that I ever stopped reading. Reading is hardwired within me, and I always have a book on the go. But recently I seem to be back into the same quantity of books I read a few years ago.
Of course I long for my teenage years, or into my early twenties, when I devoured books, reading in bed until all hours and coping daily on a few hours sleep. But those days are long gone, and I simply cannot manage like that anymore. As you get older, you need your sleep.
I've been reading a real mix of books - new authors (to me, anyway) and revisiting books from a few years ago - even a couple from my teenage years. And yes, for the most part, they are still as wonderful as I recall.
I re-read all my Thursday Next books (Jasper Fforde) and then forged into the latest few which I had never gotten around to picking up. I started back into the Saga of the Exiles quadrilogy (Julian May,) which I first read back in the early 80s. I read a wonderful collection of short stories from Alice Munro. Another from Martin Amis. And yet another from Jeanette Winterson. And even more. Brilliant stuff. There's also been a few anthologies, both old and new, from mainstream (SF) publishers and small press. I've done my bit to get to know the local UK small press market.
And my 'to be read' stack is looking healthy. Ann Leckie, more Andy Remic, Thoraiya Dyer, Cat Sparks and others.
In the middle of all this, and around it and through it, I've done my fair share of academic and non-fiction as well.
If only there were more reading hours per day.
I love reading. I always have and I believe I always will. This is one of the main reasons I became an English teacher - to share this love and try to enthuse others.
And if you haven't read a book in a while, stop reading this and go and grab one off the shelf. Now.
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