I go through reading phases. Do you?
Sometimes, I’m voraciously consuming the written word; engaged with my current reads, and eager for the exciting prospect of selecting the next ones. Other times? It’s that single volume on my nightstand that I keep telling myself to pick up, but just never do.
Either phase can be weeks or months long in duration.
Right now I’m in a slow spot. I’m not not reading, but I’m reading very slowly. I’m interested the books I’m currently working on, but haven’t really reached that point where I’m 100% invested, locked in, with any of them yet.
And I’ve got a wandering eye.
You know what I mean, right? That place where you’re reading stuff–but all the stuff you aren’t reading yet has that ‘come hither’ vibe? Yeah, that. Right now I’ve got a pile going. A perhaps a too ambitious pile, which may be part of the problem. Simone de Beauvoir, anybody? While other stuff, like Elisa Albert’s new novel, After Birth, is in my Amazon cart, beckoning, along with Brenda Shaughnessy’s new book of poems, Our Andromeda.
Okay, not in my cart anymore. On their way. (Ahem) I can’t help myself.
Do you experience this too? Your literary eyes are bigger than your stomach? Yet you can’t seem to turn pages?
Tell me, please!