I recently did something crazy. Last time this happened, I was a teenager.
I asked for books for Christmas.
LOTS of books.
I literally came away from Christmas morning grinning like a nerd, stacks of reading material in hand.
Or maybe that’s normal for you. But I haven’t asked or received a book as a gift in over a decade. And that’s because I’ve been a TV-aholic for the last number of years (Downton Abbey? Anyone?). Continue reading
I’ve been told that if you’re a writer, you should write. And when you can’t write, read.
My four-year old nephew devours books. He asks us to read the same one countless times until he memorizes it and can “read” the book himself. A chip off the ol’ Aunt block. As a kid, I would press my nose into books. Wild with imagination, I traveled to other worlds from the comfort of my own home.
But somehow our love for reading dwindles in adulthood. Those well worn pages start collecting dust on the shelf. We go to college. We get a job. We start a family. We get busy. And tired. At the end of an exhausting day the last thing we want to do is read something. So we browse Facebook or flip on the TV. But honestly, when has TV (or Facebook) ever changed my life? Continue reading