Well, summer readers, how goes your reading list?
Personally, mine has gone as cattywampus as possible (which should not surprise anyone who reads this blog with any regularity). I make a list, I ignore the list, and summer just keeps spinning out of control.
Let me count how many from
my published reading list I have consumed since Memorial Day weekend.
Six.
I have, in the past three and a half months, read six out of 35 of the books I planned to read. Oh, I've read 30 books, but I haven't read but a few I planned to read.
Why? Well, blame authors who place tasty morsels in my path that distract me. They're good "distractions," I assure you. One of them was
The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead, which you want to read. Well, "want" is a tricky concept. You will be glad to have read it when it's been read, but it won't make you feel as giddy as, say,
Ghostly Echoes. Or
Farewell, Dorothy Parker. It is an important and great read, so don't miss it. Just know you're getting into something bigger than words.
When you read a book about a Broadway musical, such as
In the Heights, have the soundtrack queued up, even if it's playing in your head, so you can listen to it in real time (not brain time).
I will finish another two books on my reading list before the weekend of the autumnal equinox — but my average won't get much higher. I am at peace with that, if only because lists are just guidelines, not contracts.
How is your summer reading going?
