I promise I’m not writing about my life again.
I feel like I’ve been wallowing too much on Birdie Bookworm. Instead, this post is more about this insane idea I had that I was too old for long books. Low and behold, it had nothing to do with my age. I’m starting to think Birdie Bookworm was the problem. I was pushing so hard, for so long, that there wasn’t much time left for deeper more engrossing reads.
As you can tell, things have kept me away from Birdie Bookworm. It sucks, but it also meant that I found myself without a blogging schedule. I’ve had no reading time constraints. I’m reading whatever I want, as slow as I want, guilt free. I’m loving it. For the first time in years, I’m excited to read a tome again. For the first time in years I want to read a book that takes me 2 weeks! I’ve tried. Clearly I needed a change, and now I’m enjoying embracing it.
I just finished The Shadow of What Was Lost. *review coming soon– It is 700 pages. It’s High Fantasy. It’s a dive! I’m thrilled by how much fun I had reading it. Now, I’m already imagining what I can tackle next! Possibly these big boys I own but was too intimidated by?
Name of the Wind
Of Blood and Bone
I’ve got this list planned, with five books I’ve been wanting to read for so long, but there was always something else first. It also includes my most favorite author’s new release, The Place on Dahousie. And my gosh, how badly do I need a reread of Outlander! I’ve missed that book so hard, and I’m ready to devour it. The whole thing. The entire series. I’m ready to prepare for Miss Gabaldon’s next installment.
(Though I’ll never entirely give up on my quick fun and light contemporary romances.)
I feel good. I think I’m in a good spot right now. I’m around less, but I’m never really gone. I’m focusing more on each book, and less on each review. And I’m finding it the best kind of medicine. I finally agree in the importance of stepping away.