Crazy About Books

As the title implies, I'm pretty into books. I'm ever thankful that at some vital point of my childhood I chose to ignore TV and computer games and sports (might've been better to stick with that one but I turned out alright), and pick up a book, lots of books to be precise. I devoured them, rising well above whatever reading level I was supposed to be at for each grade and sitting up late at night finishing my latest choice. I lived for the Book Sales in elementary school, which, honestly, I'm disappointed had to end once middle school hit. I would run down to the young adult section of the library and stumble back up the stairs with no less than five thick texts in my arms, which, of course, I would return two weeks later having read every one.

I'm proud to call myself a book nerd. I would happily accept books, from fiction, to non-fiction, to coffee table, on every occasion for which a person receives any sort of present (cough cough my birthday is coming up). While I've always had a passionate and undying love for the written word, I've found as I get older that it's much harder to find the time let alone the stamina to read five books in two weeks.

What with all the various kinds of work I now need to do (homework, working out, housework, general work), it's hard to squeeze in reading time. BUT summer is a glorious thing that exists in my mind solely to free me up for reading. As someone who sizzles in the sun the second I step outside as well as literally losing consciousness at the mere possibility of dehydration, I don't get out much once the temperature rises above 85 unless it's down to my pool where I sit waist deep on the stairs covered in SPF 100 so as to avoid dying. Rather than letting my near inability to survive the months of June, July, and August get me down, I take the opportunity to sit inside and READ. At long last I can dig into the pile of novels, short stories, essays, and how-to books sitting on my nightstand.

Since freeing up my time I've so far been able to read:

The Secret Keeper by Kate Morton, one of my favorite books from one of my new favorite authors. Her writing is beautifully imagistic, her characters are intricately developed, and the plot line is insanely fun to try and predict.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, a book I've been meaning to read ever since I learned there was a movie (I always have to read the book before I see the movie, it's just not fair otherwise). The mystery and beauty of this book is thrilling, leaving the reader to question and infer from the first page on.

Dreams and Shadows by C. Robert Carvill, something I chose at the library solely for it's intriguing cover. The story follows the intertwined paths of two boys struggling through a world of magic, monsters, and darkness. Ever a fan of fantasy  I loved how Carvill blended recognizable normalcy into this magical world.