Books of my own

I’m going to have a book amnesty.  I recently did it with all my library books; it was such a huge relief that now I will do the same with my own books.  Basically it is a declaration that I am not reading any of them.  I seem to have about half a dozen books on the go, with bookmarks at various points in their pages.  Truth is I’ve drifted from them all.  This is no reflection on how I feel about their contents.  If I really don’t like a book then I’m happy to not finish it, which I know for some people is a travesty.  Not me.  In all these cases, though, I haven’t finished them because I’ve had other distractions, other areas to focus.  After a period of voracious reading, I’m not currently reading anything – the books are just sitting there in a pile.  Every time I glance at them I feel that I *should* be reading one of them as I’ve already made a start.  Still I don’t.

Enough of this cycle!  The bookmarks are coming out of them all.  If, when, I want to return to them then I can start afresh.  Ground zero, so to speak.  How light it feels already!  And I know already where my reading will recommence: back to my roots, to the origins of this blog, with Joanne Field’s A Life of One’s Own.

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