With one week to go, it is apparent that I have failed in my personal reading challenge. Over the past nine months, I invested considerable time reading and (okay, not as much time) blogging, and it was all for naught.
Or was it?
My self-imposed rules forced me to try new authors I might not have read otherwise. Would I have read Help! A Bear Is Eating Me! if I had not challenged myself? Realistically, I would never have found it in the first place if I hadn't gone looking for something new and different.
I read more than I would have otherwise. I could try to sound all highbrow here about how wonderful it was to have the TV off more (it was) and how much more intelligent I've become (I have). But the truth of the matter is, all the reading lead me to some new interests that have truly engaged me (genealogy, bird-watching*), and somehow, the simple act of doing things made me want to do more things (taking up needlepoint again after a 10-year hiatus).
I remembered how much I love writing. And knowing that even one person read what I wrote and enjoyed it - you know, someone who isn't a relative and didn't go to high school with - it's actually the fulfillment of my childhood dream. I won't tell you it's all I ever wanted** but oh, how I love writing and being read.
So I'm taking the pressure of myself but I do think I'll keep reading, and writing. Hope you'll keep reading with me.
*Finding birdwatching interesting isn't the same thing as being an actual bird-watcher. Just so we're clear on that.
**I want lots of stuff, be serious.