I had forgotten how much I love to read.
When I was a kid I used to plough through books, basically from the moment I started reading, I just kept going. My room at my parents’ had bookshelves lining the walls and they were filled with books. During the summer, when we went sailing, my bag would always be filled with books, and still I’d have to ask my parents to buy me new ones sine I’d go through maybe two a week or something like that.
I’ve also had a very vivid imagination, I don’t know if the imagination came from reading books or maybe it was always a part of me, but that it was aided even more by the books and the reading. I remember, my family were in Italy visiting my grandma, and my dad told me that we had to go somewhere. I reluctantly put away my book and as I was walking down the stairs in the building complex, I felt so confused. I couldn’t remembering watching any movies, but still I had these super vivid pictures in my head. When we reached the street level, that’s when I realized that it was images from my book. That I’d seen it all so clearly in my head, that for a second I thought I’d watched it on TV.
In fact, reading used to be a big part of my day-to-day life, even as I became older. I have a memory from university, a guy told me, as we were walking out of class, that he was impressed with my focus. I started at him dumbfounded and he clarified that before class had started, the room had been buzzing and yet I’d been sitting there reading as though I couldn’t hear anything around me (which was probably true). I remembering being happy about him observing that particular thing about me.
I think I lost a bit of my passion for reading as I went through my bachelor’s and masters’ degree. Mainly because it consisted of reading literature at a such a high, intense, pace that I felt like I couldn’t stare at another book. Even if it was fiction. Don’t get me wrong, studying anthropology was amazing and I loved reading those books, but it wasn’t the same as just reading for pleasure. Then of course, cell phones and streaming services haven’t exactly made it easier to find my way back to books. It’s not that I haven’t read a book since 2011, but I haven’t exactly been devouring them like I used to. As a mom, I’ve found it hard to sit down and have that kind of focus too, and again, phones and scrolling through readily available content has just been a bit (maybe too) alluring to pass up.
Anyways, I just finished a book that has taken me way too long to finish, but the end, it really made me remember the magic of books. The simple pleasure of reading something that really speaks to you. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. The book is called Come Away With Me by Karma Brown. I have to admit that the first part, for me, didn’t have that thing that it grabbed me right away; but maybe I wasn’t paying as much attention to it either. Again, the end though, it really pulled me into it! It’s an intense book, sad, sometimes humorous, and written in a style that I like. As I finished that one, I found myself grabbing another one immediately. This one was a book that was gifted to me as a birthday present, it was one that I’d heard a lot of people say was a good one. It is! The first 20 pages went by in mere minutes and I don’t know if it’s just that good, or the fact that my passion for reading seems to be rekindled (probably a mix of both), but it just grabbed me and I immediately started picturing the scenes play out in front of me. It’s called It Ends With Us, by Colleen Hoover. I can’t wait to continue reading this summer as I still have a few weeks left of this vacation!
Tell me, what’s on your reading list this summer? Got any recommendations? Please, let me know!
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