I’ve always been a reader; I have distinct memories of walking to the bus stop on the way to school with a novel in front of my nose. I collect novels, plays, poems and short stories, vegan cook books and knitting books, non-fiction and picture books. My bookcases always have, and probably always will, overflow: there are stacks beside the bed, on the coffee table; books upon books.
Once I became a serious knitter, my other interests took a backseat to the new obsession. Knitting requires two hands (for me, at least–I know there are some uber-talented multitaskers who can knit and read at the same time, but I’m not among them), so knitting and reading were suddenly competitors for my time. I can knit while watching a movie, or while listening to music, but for me knitting and reading just can’t coincide.
So for the past few years, I’ve become kind of a lapsed book-geek: I keep collecting novels I want to read, and never quite get around to starting them. I recently decided, however, that this would change.
I don’t drive, and do a fair bit of travelling by, and waiting for, public transport. I am also one of those restless people who is constantly fidgeting if I don’t have something to occupy my attention–so I usually have a distraction of some kind on my person at all times. For the past few years knitting projects have been my go-to travel distraction, but I’ve decided that slipping a novel into my bag instead means I get some serious reading time in. Yay!
I’ve signed up to Goodreads in order to keep track of all those books I keep meaning to read, and so far I’m finding it very handy.
P.S. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to start reading Chandler. Never knew what I was missing.