My Not-So-Secret Secret

I love books. I love words. I love reading.

I'm a fast reader.

I devour books.

Sit me any place and within minutes I will be reading something: a book, the back of a DVD, a magazine, a pamphlet, a survey, even a advertisement - if it's by me and it has words on it, it will be read. I can't help myself.

My love of books started at a young age, while still in a crib. My mom would put a book on tape in a tape recorder on a desk next to my bed, and give me the book. I taught myself how to switch the tape through the slots of my crib. And I read along.

I was potty trained by books.

In elementary school I was always a couple of grade levels ahead, reading wise.

I've always been the one my friends come to for book suggestions.

However, I'm not a huge analyzer of books. I read books for fun. I read books because I enjoy reading. I love stories. I love to be entertained. I love to be shocked. I love it all. But ask my why I think an author decided to do something a certain way and I clam up. My brain stops working. I can't think of an intelligent thing to say. 

Now, I have analyzed books before, I was in honors English for three years, and AP for one. I learned to twist and talk about plots and symbols in books. But I was guided, taught. I can't really come up with stuff on my own. (Unless it's about Jane Eyre. I've read that book so many times that I could twist it to fit any and all AP essay prompts.) 

(This is also one reason why I decided that being an English major was not for me.)

But back to reading.

I love it.

I have a vivid imagination, and while I read it's like watching a movie in my head. No effort required. It just happens. I read a word and the story comes life inside my head.

It's pretty magical. 

Go brain.

Since we've moved to Pocatello I have read 13 books. 

Not skimmed, not looked at. Read. 

I average about a book a day, if I don't have much to do.

You see, once I start a book, I can't put it down. I can count on one hand the number of books that I have started and not finished. Books compel me to read them. However, as I've learned these last couple of weeks, this can sometimes be a bad thing. If I read for hours in a day I start to go crazy. My brain kind of clouds over and I can't function very well. I'm in a sort of funk from reading too much. So I've been trying to limit myself. Even I need to take a break.

Why am I telling you all this? Oh, I don't know. You probably won't think it's very interesting. 

But it's a major part of who I am.

So there you go.

PS - if you are a lover of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series, you will be interested to note that a fifth book just came out. Yes, a fifth. Set 10 years after the fourth. It's called Sisterhood Everlasting. I got it two days ago, started reading it at like 11 pm and stayed up until 2 am to finish it. It was amazing. I cried and cried and cried. You definitely should check it out. But not before reading the first four. That would just be a crime.

You can check out books I've read here:
my read shelf: