Addictions, Delusions, and other vices you can't make me drop.

Addict?

It shouldn't surprise anyone that I like to read. I've counted, and I read about eleven books every month.  Hmmm...Let me get out my calculator for a minute... That's 132 books a year.

132 books.

That's on top of my own writing, critiquing for others, and the stocking of blogs, all of which I do on a regular basis.

People often ask me... How do you find time to read? My answer, how does an alcoholic find time to drink?

Taking a turn for the serious here. I think I might be an addict. Seriously.

I can't walk past a new book without picking it up, and once I've started, I can't stop reading until I've read the words "The end." And even then, I often flip the last few blank pages back and forth hoping to find words written on them. When I'm in story-land, I walk around in a story-induced haze. I'm no good for conversation until that dern novel is finished. That's not normal.

See, I'm not one of those people who can read a chapter and then put it down and do something productive.

I'm not a social reader.

I hide my reading. My husband will come home and ask me what I did that day, and I sure as heck won't say "Oh, I read for seven hours, and then did the dishes, made dinner, got me and the kids dressed - all in the half hour it took you to drive home."

I have a secret stash of books. I have withdrawals when I'm not reading or writing. My work, my recreation, and even my friends all center around my reading.

I allow all of this... maybe justify is the better word... because it is my job.

No, I haven't been paid for it yet. Thanks for asking.

This is what I want to do for a living. And I, perhaps delusion-ally, think that it's going to happen.


One day I will be published. One day my book will be the opiate for somebody else. One day my book may get between a reader and her family.

And I don't see that's a problem.

Do you?
~Sheena Boekweg