Anomalous

June 2, 2009 at 3:36 pm | Posted in Book Blather | 3 Comments

My reading went up 32% last month!

I just realized this.  This year I’ve read an average of 11,261 pages a month, yet suddenly, in May, I read 14,924!  What’s really strange about this is that I’ve spent all month planning and packing for my big move, and I read almost nothing the last two weekends.

What changed?  Well, I decided to read a bunch of short books, and wipe out as many things under 250 pages as I could find on my list.  Other than that, my number of YA books and graphic novels was the same as always.  Smaller proportion, actually, since I read so many more titles that month.

Why would reading short books allow me to read nearly a third more than normal?  I’m not entirely sure, as some of the short books were non-fiction, some were slow reads, and some had really dense type.  I also played a couple of audio books while I was packing, and if you’ve ever listened to one you know they take more than twice as long as just reading it yourself.  Same with reading aloud – that takes even longer!

Maybe my desire to finish two titles a day just gave me that little extra psychological push.  Maybe I just read a little longer each day than I normally would.  Maybe it’s the knowledge that I’m not quite on track to reach 500 this year (I’m currently 7 behind).  Or maybe it’s knowing that Swapna Krishna is over 7,000 pages ahead!

The M Word

June 2, 2009 at 2:27 pm | Posted in Book Blather | 2 Comments

Moving.  That’s the M word.  Moving is so dreadful it’s hard to pick what’s the worst part.  Is it packing, when you realize you really have to transport every postage stamp and piece of furniture out the doors?  Moving itself, with its hours and hours of back-breaking physical labor?  Cleaning the oven of your old home, knowing you’ll never use it again?  Or unpacking, when you don’t know which boxes all your books are in?

I don’t know.  All I do know is that one of my friends accidentally snapped off a leg on my bookcase.  Currently it’s lying on its side on the living room floor (which I would do, too, if someone snapped my leg off).  All the books are boxed up in the garage.  It’s quite poignant, really.

Oh, don’t get me wrong.  Starting a new life is exciting and everything.  I’m just so tired right now that it’s not really penetrating.  And I only read 30 pages yesterday.  It feels like I’ll never have leisure time again.  Or figure out where I put the silverware.

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