When I was in secondary school, I used to spend nights propped up in bed burning through fiction. I think we often blame time, lack of time, for not being able to read but more likely I think it’s the fact that we are “over-entertained” by our mobile devices. All these things that are so connected, so animated, so bright, so instant.
I’ve just been trying to reacquaint myself with print. I’m currently on my 6th book this summer. It feels nice. It feels nice to run my fingers across paper, to flip and fold pages, to underline and to scribble.
It’s also nice to be reading a little bit of fiction again. I’ve been reading Murakami these past couple of days. Norwegian Wood. It has been on my To Read list since January 2013, when I read Kafka on the Shore. I don’t know why these things take so long, I don’t really know what got in between me and reading. But I’m happy to be back to books.