I Haven’t Read a Book in About Ten Years

Standard

This will come as a shock to some – “WHAT?¬†Adrienne hasn’t read a book?! How can this be possible when all she talks about are books?”

Because ten years ago, I was about thirteen. Because ten years ago, all I wanted to do was read. Because ten years ago, I was less stressed. Because ten years ago, all I had to focus on was the book in my hand.

A lot of my old habits are still in place today. I still carry a book with me everywhere, and I never buy a new purse unless it passes the Book Test (can a standard book fit inside it). I still read when I have spare moments, such as waiting in line at the grocery store or when I am waiting for someone. However, I don’t enjoy books like I used to.

I’ve always been a fast reader. But the older I get, the more I realize that my reading speed is slowing down. There are hundreds of excuses why. And the truth is that sometimes I would rather spend time with my friends than read a book. The book will always be there. That moment with my friend will not be. So, I guess you could say it’s a priority shift.

Furthermore, the people who truly love books won’t be on the Internet telling you because they are too busy reading! I love books, sure I do. But sometimes (a lot of times) I get distracted by the Internet and its sparkly world of social media. Now I am more likely to look at page numbers than I was ten years ago, because now my time constraints are greater. I read a lot of children’s books for multiple reasons: I am studying to be a children’s librarian, children’s books are more fun to me, and, in most cases, there are less pages. It takes me two weeks to read a children’s book, whereas it would probably take me less than a month to read a 500-page adult book. Frankly, I am not ready to enter into the adult world yet, but that is another post.

It has been ten years since I fully savored a book, tasted it and let it consume me. I don’t cry as much when I read books anymore, and big part of that is because I am not immersed in the story as I once was. In the age of the Internet and adult life, I am not surprised. But reflecting on this certainly does make me stop and realize what I am missing.

Advertisements

Giving Up, Giving In, and Discipline

Standard

I feel like I should change the name of this blog from “Girl vs. Pittsburgh” to “Girl vs. Her Own Self.”¬†Obviously, it’s been a long time since I wrote anything on here. I can blame graduate school, but really I lost confidence in myself and my writing. I lost confidence in the dream I once had of becoming a writer. And I’ve been struggling with a lot. Life has been full of good things, like classes (both good and bad), my friends, my family, my job, and my boyfriend of a little over three months. However, I’ve also been struggling with do I really want to leave the Pittsburgh area now that I’m here, am I going to get a job as a librarian, friends that I thought were friends but probably weren’t, what does it really mean to be a woman, and why don’t I just sit down, pick up a pen, and begin writing?

Believing you are blessed with talent is one thing, but actually practicing that talent is something else. I don’t believe you keep a talent without practicing it. And I have not been practicing at all. Like I said, grad school is an easy culprit, but the real culprit, the REAL reason I haven’t been writing is myself, my lack of confidence, and my lack of discipline. I gave up. But now I am giving in to the dream I once had.

Discipline has not been easy. My boyfriend asks me, “Did you write today?” I am always embarrassed when I have to say no. Again, I can blame school, work, my summer practicum, etc., but the real person to blame is myself. I am not making the time for it. That is MY fault.

My best friend is Sarahbeth Caplin, a talented self-published author. Sarahbeth writes everyday. Of course she’s amazing. Don’t concert violinists practice everyday? Baseball players? They don’t sit back and rest on that one hit they made back in college in 2009. They constantly work to make themselves better.

Right now I am sitting on a lumpy pillow of the things I wrote as a teenager. If I ever want to be the writer I want to be, I need to quit sitting around, and begin writing again. Get a little ink on my hands. That’s the only way you become better.