With my husband at work and the kids at Gramma’s house, I find myself with time. I should be addressing the laundry piled high on the couch, or the dishes begging to be done; the kitchen floor that hasn’t been swept in days or the pets are hankering for a quick snack. Instead I allow myself the one guilty pleasure I don’t get to indulge in that often: reading.
Why do I call it a guilty pleasure, you ask. Did you read the introductory paragraph? My list of responsibilities (those mentioned and those not) overflows the boundaries of what can be done in a single day. Most mothers, nay, most parents will agree: there is more to do than hours to do it in. Even when you have kids to help you, because then it becomes a matter of supervision, and that sometimes is harder than the work itself, especially when you have to repeat yourself – again and again and again. So for me to spend the morning reading is by far the most irresponsible thing I can do.
But it’s so wonderful to be lost in a world where romance and intrigue exists. Where an unexpected kiss can brighten up your day and happy endings are a requirement. Where mother-in-laws see the errors of their ways and stepfamilies embrace in familial love. Where the fantastic and everyday meet and mysteries are solved by detectives named Bubba. Where witches and werewolves live in harmony and vampires should never be trusted (as in real life). Where science fiction is fact and love beats all odds. Whether it’s a paperback novel or an ebook, reading is like fuel for life – feeding the imagination with knowledge, entertainment and even distraction, making us wiser and creative-r creatures.
I’ve tried to teach my kids the love of reading, but apparently this is something inherent: if you don’t have it, you just don’t have it. Only one of them loves reading – she’s working her way through a 700-page novel about (what else) vampires and werewolves. The youngest prefers comic books about Garfield©, the second born doesn’t like to read at all (though he will spare a moment for Manga© books) and the oldest will only read about animals he would like to have as pets.
Such is life, though, each person as different as the books out there. What matters most is that we read. And while we’re on the subject of books, let me recommend one: my latest novel, Stepmothers Anonymous, currently available at Amazon and Smashwords. It’s fiction at its finest; a tale of romance, intrigue and betrayal. It will have your imagination spinning (I couldn’t resist plugging it. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s blog to see what else, or whom else, I shamelessly endorse.).