Get Your Read On

I love to read. LOVE to read. I spent all day yesterday finishing up a series of six books about alchemy and magic, and now I'm a little depressed. The series is over, the story is done. I loved the ending, but I hated that it ended.

For me, reading is a journey - an escape. To lose myself in a book is to find myself. When I don't take the time to read, I find myself becoming a little lost - a little hopeless - a little cranky. This just means it's time to hit up Goodreads for some more suggestions, and spend some time in the library perusing the shelves. It's a super-rainy day today, so I'm guessing I'll be heading to the library in just a bit.

I don't understand people who don't like reading. Honestly. I've tried. Yes, I get that sometimes it's difficult. I can see where you can get bogged down in a book and really start disliking it for a little while. I understand that sitting and watching a movie is much easier.

But there's no movie crew that has ever topped my imagination. Some have come close - Peter Jackson has worked near miracles on J.R.R. Tolkien, but it still isn't the same. I have a hard time even going to see movies made from books that I loved. I've still not seen The Help.  I think I bought it, but I've just not been able to make myself watch it, because I'm afraid of what it will do to my memory of the book.

So here's the irony. My kids don't like to read. Really. I've introduced them to every series, style, concept and author I can think of. I've read to them. Constantly. They love for me to read TO them. They say, "More! Don't stop now!" So, I'll hand them the book and tell them to finish reading it and they say, "Meh." Maybe later.

Joshua loves Calvin and Hobbes and has read all of them, so that's at least something.

But for them, reading is a chore. A necessity to get through literature class. A dreaded task.

And it breaks my heart. It shatters my soul. Nothing makes me feel like more of a failure as a mother than the fact that my children don't love to read.

I still hope. I still introduce new books to them regularly. I still read with joy in front of them, laughing and crying openly at what I'm discovering. Maybe one day they'll get the spark that leaps up from between the page covers and turns them on.

If not...I'll just blame it on Dr. SmartyPants.

The End.