Dear Reader,
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I've started a book club. Well... it's less of a club and more of a small accountability circle. Because before my Easter trip and my impulse purchases in the airport bookshop, it had been about six months since I read a book.
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It was a shocking thing to realize. I've been a 5-6 books a week girl since I learned to read. But in the last year, as my writing has amped up, I've found myself picking up fewer and fewer books.
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Some of that is time, but most of it is guilt. I sit down since to read and this evil voice in the back of my head pipes up and says, Shouldn't you be writing now? And then I put
whatever book I was about to read away and slink resentfully back to my keyboard.
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And I missed reading. Â
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Hence the book club. Because having a time and place to get together to talk about the book means it's less of solitary indulgence and more of an obligation. And having it as an obligation shuts up the evil voice in my head. That turns reading into a chore instead of a pleasure
which somehow makes it more enjoyable...
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Yes, I know it's ridiculous.
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No, I don't know why my brain works like that. (In fact I'm working pretty hard on not pulling on that thread right now. I have a feeling there's too much yarn and not enough crochet hooks
to repair the damage.)
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*ahem* Anyway back to the point and the book I'm currently reading...
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