I love to read. No other hobby I’ve attempted has ever come close to the pleasure I feel when picking up a good book. Books transport me to a different time and place. The world seems to disappear when I am engrossed in a novel; in fact I seem to recall a rather embarrassing episode in 6th grade math class that involved me reading a Nancy Drew novel instead of paying attention. Since then my passion for reading has continued to grow.
My reading taste varies from chick-lit to suspense and lately I’ve thrown a few memoirs into the mix thanks to Jen Lancaster and Chelsea Handler. Nothing makes me happier than to discover an author I’ve never tried before, that I actually enjoy, because then I make it a point to devour all of their work. The most interesting thing (I think) about me when I read is that I am transported into the story… I feel as if I am in a corner watching everything unfold without being a part of the story. If the plot and the characters are particularly fascinating I find myself becoming emotionally involved in their lives, I know it sounds crazy BUT for me the more involved I am the better I like the book.
Participating in my friend’s 40 book challenge (Thanks Fran!) this year really allowed me to branch out and try new authors and genres. The number of books is small in my opinion but initially it was kind of daunting because I was in grad school until May. Normally I fly through a novel in no time but trying to finish up 2 major projects before graduation slowed my reading down tremendously. Now that I’m free I’ve been checking out books left and right. My to be read shelf on Shelfari.com is filled with all sorts of mini-vacations for myoften restless mind.