June moves into the home stretch! And onward we push through those thirty posts nearing the end of what I’ve been writing every year this month. For the fifth year in a row I’m back to a month of daily blogging: each day a new post on a new topic, but on the same blog-per-day topic as last year, creating another set of Those 30 Posts in June. Today, that post just happens to be about something that I want:
To Read… Dangerously
Did you happen to recall that I’m reading a lot of books this year? I won’t bore you with the specifics in this particular post (I’ll save that for a later one) other than to note that between daily blogging and the prompt arrival of summer, I haven’t quite made it through the last hundred pages or so of my current book… but I’m striving for week’s end.
Really. No… really.
I’m motivated. Refreshingly so.
As it happens I picked up a “daily deal” audiobook the other day that struck up my interest not because I could add it to my list of twenty-five novels to read this year. No. In fact, it’s a non-fiction audiobook, the two specific qualifiers that specifically exclude it from my list.
But, that stated, it is aptly applicable to the reading project because it is a book about exactly that. Reading.
Go ahead… insert yawn here. I know you’re thinking about it.
Actually, the book caught my attention because it’s this: titled “The Year of Reading Dangerously: How Fifty Great Books (and Two Not-So-Great Ones) Saved My Life” (by –notthat– Andy Miller) the author tells the story in a self-reflective quasi-journal sort of fashion about how, upon entering his mid-thirties and struggling with the monotony of commuting, parenting, working, and too many games of sudoku, he felt compelled to nourish his brain by getting through a short list of books he’d compiled to read before to was too late.
Presumably this changes his life (I don’t know as I haven’t yet finished the book.)
Yet, a third of the way through this curious little story, written by an eerily kindred spirit somewhere far across the sea, I hear echos of my own motivations and layered purpose in trying to slog through my own (shorter) list of novels inside of this particular year. I don’t know that I’m reading quite that dangerously, but I am reading similarly for both the trivial and not-so-trivial factors that seem to drive Miller to feed his brain with something besides spreadsheets and business emails.