By LAURA SANCHEZ, Staff Writer
I am guilty on a few charges involving books: not reading the books I’m interested in reading, preferring to watch bad TV shows on Netflix instead of reading, and basically indulging in all sorts of other media consumption instead of my first love: books. I hope that the unread books on my bookshelf can forgive my blasphemous charges, and can understand that like in every failing relationship, that it’s me, not them.
Books used to be my life. I was that cliché child who went to the library and took out five books at a time, dreaming my life away into fantasy lands and imagined realities. I was that kid who would prefer to stay inside reading instead of going out to play with the other kids.
I was perfectly content with the worlds in my hands than with the world outdoors. And as time would have it, I grew up and didn’t need books as much. Don’t get me wrong – I still adored settings that felt like second homes and meeting vibrant characters that instantly felt like family. By this point, I had also fallen in love with writing, with the intricate, perfectly crafted phrases and sentences that I only wished (and still wish) to know how to etch myself.
Nowadays, well… you know the story. Holding a job and being a full-time student put dampers on my free time, and the free time that I do have? Well, let’s just say that I’d rather watch a TV show than read a book. It’s easier, safer, and much less arduous on my thinking abilities. But this shall be the year that I will change! I’ve challenged myself to read fifty-five books this year. That’s a lot. That’s a bit more than one book per week, and I’m already behind, having read only one book so far. But I have faith in myself and in my book-reading abilities.
If I can manage to watch five seasons of a show in three weeks, then I think that I can easily pull off the same amount of books in that time. If I can manage to procrastinate aimlessly on school assignments, then I can also manage to squeeze in some extra reading time in my procrastination session. It’s about delegating and wanting to accomplish that goal. No one is holding me accountable for this goal, and it won’t kill me if I read fourteen books instead of the fifty-five. The point is that I read again and to remember the same enchantment I felt when I was a child.
So books, I hope you can forgive me. I swear I’m trying. It’s completely my fault, but I’mgoing to redeem myself. All fifty-five of you – just wait and see.