Saturday, January 1, 2011

The issue of books.

Sometimes I think the problem with books is that once they get into your blood, you can’t get away from them. I have always been a reader. I think part of it stemmed from necessity – long hours in waiting rooms at Princess Margaret Hospital and doctor’s rooms and hospital stays. Hours of nearly every week for one reason or another having nothing else to do but read. If I didn’t fall in love with reading, my life in primary school and my teen years would have been pretty damn boring.

My issue is that when I don’t get time to read because of uni or work or whatever, I get stressed. Reading keeps me calm, keeps me sane. I just spent five weeks in South Africa and only read one book the entire time. (I read a second book on the plane trip home, though, haha. While everyone else slept through it becoming Christmas Day South Africa time and then Perth time...) I was starting my volunteer work each day by getting up at 5am and we had no electricity, so the only way to read at night was by my head torch in my tent. So naturally I didn’t get much reading done because I didn't want to waste batteries. It was the most amazing time of my entire life and yet still the lack of reading stressed me out. The days when it was ridiculously hot and we sat under the trees in the shade in the middle of the day were the best, because a bunch of just sat there and read our books.

I have generally spent my life relying on books and relying on music, even more so than people. It’s why I say that Marsden books saved my life and so did The Offspring. I cannot see how I would’ve gotten through some things without them. Sometimes, this crazy need to read bothers me. I usually don’t get time to read when I’m stressed (uni exams, Christmas time at work, etc) and the lack of reading causes me more stress. It’s actually quite frustrating.

2010 has been the year that I have read the least amount of books in my entire life, by a huge amount, because of my Masters course. How ironic that I would start a book review blog in the same year. But I started this book review blog for me. Writing is the one thing I feel like I am not entirely crap at and, by writing book reviews, I’m making myself write. Even if I read back on my reviews and hate them, at least I’m writing something.

Reading and writing, like Africa, is in my blood and in my heart. And it’s goddamn annoying sometimes.

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