Reading, a Lifelong Obsession

I love to read. I LOVE to read. I read all the time. And I read for pleasure. I am a bit of a reading maniac, though, because if I’m reading something that I’m really into, I can’t stop. I’ve been known to stay up reading until 4 or 5 AM on weeknights and then stumble into work that same morning, semi-coherent, but satisfied. On weekends, I'll pull all nighters to finish a book or two. (It's really sad I couldn't channel this obsession to read my assigned reading in school.)

I laugh out loud when I read. I totally cry all the time. And I just…live in it while I’m reading it. It was really my refuge when I was young. I’d go to the library and check out a stack of books, read them all, and go get more. The library we would go to was so small that after a while, they started asking me which books to buy when they were getting ready to buy some new ones since I had already read the ones they had. They still remember me, even though the library is now very large and shiny and new, and I am now the age they were when they met me and they now show me pictures of their grandchildren.

My tendency to read until I drop is probably why I don’t really read mysteries. With most books, unless they’re written by some of my favorite authors, I can willfully tear myself away to go to bed. I’m normally pretty good at managing my reading and stretching the books out over a few days. Most of the time. With mysteries, the suspense…it just kills me. I HAVE to know how it ends. Esp. since mysteries these days don’t always wrap up things nice and tidy at the end.

Where I care about the book for whatever reason, I read compulsively and can’t stop. I literally read while I do things that let me multitask with a book in my hand because it causes pain to have to stop. It calls to me when it is closed. I’ll read while brushing my teeth, eating, listening to Rich play on the PS3…pretty much anything.

Last night, I finished off a book written by one of my favorite authors from my “young adult” reading years, Tamora Pierce. Her first quartet of books was about a girl who traded places with her twin brother and went to learn to be a knight in a realm where girls did not do such things. It is one of my favorites in that age range and genre. It spoke to me at a time when I needed some heroine stories instead of hero stories in my life. (Incidentally, she started SheroesCentral.com which is an online community dedicated to promoting female heroes in literature.) She has since written many more books I polished off one story line last night.

Anyway, the point of all this is that I’ve married a man who finds me staying up late to read rather ridiculous. I finished reading at 2:10 AM, which I considered pretty good. I thought it was going to be a later night than that, but found that the last fifty pages were lists of characters and background that I had already picked up in the prequel.

To help Rich cope with his reading maniac wife, I gave him a lovely silk oversize eye-shade so that he can sleep while I’m still up reading. That isn’t quite as effective as I’d like. For the last fifty pages or so I took pity on him and turned off the lights after 1 AM and trudged to my closet and read in there. (To be clear, it wasn’t much of a sacrifice. My closet is the size of a small bedroom and has plushy carpeting.)

I stay up to read. Rich stays up to play PS3. All in all, I think we’re just trying to do our thing while in our family unity. It’s been interesting how that works. The funny part to me is that I know a lot of people who read the way I do and can’t stop when it’s interesting. I suppose it must be the case that the percentage of my friends who stay up really late to read may be slightly larger than that of the general population. Maybe a lot.

Sigh. That’s one of many reasons why I love you!