I can not remember a time when I didn’t enjoy reading. When I was really little, it was Dr. Seuss books. (I especially loved There’s a Wocket in My Pocket and Wacky Wednesday – they must have appealed to my budding appreciation for the bizarre.) As I grew, I found endless pleasure in Nancy Drew Mysteries, the Little House series, the Chronicles of Narnia, books about the Black Stallion…the list goes on and on. I often smuggled a flashlight to bed so that I could continue reading long after the lights went out. And back in those days, I had no idea how to get anywhere, since as soon as I got in the car, I stuck my nose in a book. (We went to the same amusement park every single summer and I didn’t learn how to actually find my way there until I was 16, and even then I needed a map.) Many of my books were creased and dog-eared, the signs of wear obvious, since I re-read books without hesitation.
For all of my thirty-some years, books have been a constant companion, my bed-time winding down ritual, my escape, sources of enjoyment, learning, challenge, and growth. There’s always a small book tucked away in my purse, several (aka “a teetering pile of”) books on my nightstand, and “current reads” scattered throughout the house, particularly anywhere I spend any significant amount of time. I would say that I am leading “a well-read life.”
But my definition might differ from that of others. Some people might insist that in order to claim a well-read life you have to:
…read a certain number of books per year (or week)
…have read “the classics” – all of them
…prefer “literary” books to “genre” books
…have read certain landmark books, that everyone who is anyone has surely read
Me? My guidelines are much more flexible.
Do you love books? I mean really love them?
Do you prefer reading over many, many other activities (such as housework, for instance)?
Do you always have at least one book in progress?
Do you try different authors and genres?
Is Amazon.com one of your favorite websites?
Given a few hours to yourself, would you choose to browse in a bookstore?
Are you sad when a wonderful book comes to an end?
If you answered “yes” to these questions, then you, my friend, are also leading a well-read life.
No literary snobbery here. I’ve read As I Lay Dying and The Grapes of Wrath, but to be honest, I’d often rather get lost in a thriller than consult Faulkner or Steinbeck. And if you don’t have time to read three books this week, that’s okay. And if you didn’t enjoy the great classic, Moby Dick, you will receive no condemnation from me [true confession: I couldn't make it through that one, myself].
So if you are leading a well-read life, check in here. Let me know in your comment what book(s) you’re reading right now, what book you almost couldn’t bear to see end, and how you feel about quitting in the middle of a book that is just too horrible for words. Or just share one of those things. After all, I wouldn’t want to keep you from getting back to your current book!


Put up the curtains that I finally bought for our bedroom.
















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