For awhile now, I haven't had an overwhelming desire to read. That was odd too, because I have been an avid reader since I was 7. Recently though, I have picked up and started reading again and I think I know why.
Part of reading is about angst. There has to be a tension, a conflict, a connection with the reader, and without that, a novel just isn't any good. But that was the problem. I didn't need any more conflict. Or angst. Or pull in any direction. I was already being pulled in too many directions. That is why I read the end of the final Harry Potter long before I was even half way into the book, why I couldn't deal with reading anything too deep, and why I couldn't bring myself to see any movie other than children's animated flicks or comedies... and even those might have been too serious.
And now, I am reading again. In the last two weeks, I have read Goodbye Mr Chips, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Awakening, Cane, Other People, and I am now working on We the Living. I can handle a little bit of angst again, and that, beyond anything else, is a good sign. Maybe I am coming back.
