When a friend of mine asked me what I had done this summer, I told her I had read. She looked sad and replied, “That’s so boring, girl. You need to get a life.” Usually, I shrug that sort of comment off but this time it got me thinking. Am I an oddity?
Looking back on my life, I have to admit, I’ve logged a few hours reading. I can remember, as a child, reading for hours at a time. I would get so engrossed in a book, I wouldn’t hear my parents call me. I remember books that opened up worlds for me and I’d look around and wonder if anyone else knew what I had just learned. Most of my friends didn’t read. Not for fun and certainly not like me.
I haven’t gone to the North Pole but I’ve read about it. I’ve read about the discovery of Tutankhamun but I’ve never been to Egypt. I’d like to think that classics like Jules Verne and Rudyard Kipling taught me life lessons that were invaluable. But, though I did have friends, the fact remains that none of them ever snuck a book into class to read while the teacher wasn’t looking like I did.
I have to admit, today reading is still with me. In spite of a full-time job, I manage to get my hands on books or ebooks and rare is the week when I don’t read at least couple. I’m not saying I need a 12-step group but…am I an odd bird? Is reading on the way out?
What do you think? Do you read more than the norm? Do your friends make funny comments when you share about your love for books? Or can they relate? Is it a dying breed or is it on the rise?