Before I started my first job back in highschool, I read around 10 books a week, usually from the Young Adult section at the library I volunteered for. I was part of two book clubs, and spent a great deal of my time reading.
Then life arrived, and I realized I could not devote so much time to reading any more, even though I loved books. I still read but I would go weeks sometimes without picking up a non-school related novel.
Recently, my desire to read over came my desire to write, including the pieces I should be doing for class. I contribute much of this to the website GoodReads and my introduction to a variety of different generas.
Yesterday, I finished Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro and today I am over half way done with Tina Fey’s Bossypants.
My problem with reading is, at a basic level, when I begin I do not want to stop until the story is finished. This is a greater problem when I start reading a series such as the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins ( interesting fact I learned about her, she also writes TV shows.)
My inability to put down a book would not be a big deal if school was already over, but revitalizing my appetite for a good story so close to finals is not a good thing.
I am compiling a summer reading list, yet I have become so excited for some of my selections, I started early on the actuall reading part.
In the end I will preserver and enjoy some great books in the mean time. I don’t worry too much about school. I am an expert procrastinatior.
The title of this is a lie, there is no problem with books. Books are wonderful. The problem is with me.
Books, it really is me, not you. I truelly don’t know how to quit you.