I love reading. Love it in so many ways that I feel at a loss when I don’t have a book with me. But for the last few weeks, I’ve felt like I have nothing to read.
This is not the actual case — publishers send me a lot of books they hope I will read. Most of the titles I review on this blog are sent to me directly from publishers. I’ve started in on a few books that seemed interesting but, after the first 30 pages, were a bore. Even the last book on this book a week series didn’t spark anything in me, but I was on a train with nothing else to do, so I read it.
Last night, I went to Barnes and Noble. My goal was to wander the store and pick something. Still, after a half hour, I left empty handed. I spent another half hour going through the titles on my shelves, and still nothing.
As readers, do you ever get like this? I’m surprised. I can’t remember a time when it’s happened before. My solution has been, so far, to read magazines, but they don’t usually supply the same experience a book can. And I’m worried about this un-readerly thing since I’m going to Key West in a few weeks and planned to bring a stack of books to read on the plane and by the pool. What if I find nothing of interest? What will I do then? Nap?
This morning, I put a big order in at bn.com, a mix of books I’ve heard others rave about, one that I read about in the Washington Post. I’m worried that I’m back in the position I was when I started this book blog — that I won’t read something unless I can write about it, and that defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?