June continues! And onward we push through those thirty posts that 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 am:
I’m acutely aware to that people who don’t read a lot the only thing more boring than reading a book is reading about someone writing about reading a book. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately, and if you fall into the aforementioned category… I’d like to apologize but I just can’t. You should really try it for yourself. Not just reading more, but writing about it.
Sure, the literary essay is so “high school” and you probably haven’t thought to think and write critically about something that you’ve read for the so-called pleasure of it since you were a teenager and were forced to do just that in the name of educational credits. But something very odd is happening in this little world we live in: it sometimes seems that the reading of books is becoming an ever-more eclectic hobby, reserved for the rare few who can muster the energy to draw their gaze away from their touchscreens and streaming video long enough to scan some words and story through their brains in an effort to harvest a story… a narrative… an idea, though, impression, feeling, or state of mind from the effort.
To take it one step further and actually write on it? Yawn… but who does that?
Well, for one: I have been. While I cannot claim to tell you it will fix what ails you, I will suggest my experience thus far… reading more, and then thinking and writing on the same… has been a fulfilling experience for me even if you haven’t bothered to click through on those posts when they appear.