Friday, September 18, 2009

My passion for reading is missing. Can you help me find it?


I love to read. If you asked him, my father would tell you that I picked up a book at age 4 and haven't put one down since. I can remember getting fussed at for bringing a book with me to family night, to church, to the skating rink...you get the picture.

With the exception of my college days, when I was distracted by men, parties & what not classes, there's never been a time when I wasn't reading at least one or two books. In grade school I could easily read a book a day and still have time for recess, homework and playing outside until the street lights came on. In high school I could easily read a book every two days and still have time for homework, watching the neighborhood boys play basketball, and practicing a new dance routine with my next door neighbor for the party of the year that happened weekly.

As a new mother sixteen years ago, reading was my escape from diapers, formula and a crying brat baby. As the Princess of Snark, as I call my daughter, became more independent, I found myself able to get back to the book a day habit. So now as we start her junior year in high school, a time when her dependence on me is at an all time low, when I should have hours upon hours of free time to read, I've lost my passion for reading.

I've fallen off the wagon. Me! The woman known for reading 3 - 4 books at a time, strategically placed in my purse, car, bathroom and bedroom. Last week I read 2 books. Who does that? This week I've read bits and pieces of The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros after reading a review of it by IB Reading and noting that it was one of Evelyn Ashford's favorite books. Have you seen or read this book? It's not big by any means, 134 pages at most. Twenty-five pages in and I tossed it back in my bag. I tried picking up James Patterson's The 8th Confession. Shortly after I picked it up, I dropped it back on the floor underneath my desk at work. I even tried another Ellen Douglas book.

Is it possible that I've lost the passion for reading? Could it be the subject matter? I think I read a pretty diverse selection of books, but maybe I need to be introduced to something else? I'm looking for a book that blows me away like Kathryn Stockett's, The Help. I want a book with imagery so vivid that I feel like I've been there before, the way Alexander McCall Smith makes me feel about Botswana in the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series.

What books have you read that left you wanting more? Which authors leave you hungering for their next book? I'm begging you to help me find good books, help me get my mojo back!
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