After college, I started taking breaks from books. I felt I needed to focus on participating more in life. I am reminded of this after reading yesterday's post by Franki Sibberson on the Nerdy Book Club blog (here) where she talks about reader's guilt. I struggled with this guilt. Is time spent reading taking away from something else?
People got exasperated when I chose reading over going out. Family members claimed I needed to interact more and find some hobbies. Was I losing out? How do you balance reading with "living a life"? Would I regret all the hours spent turning pages? Did reading mean not connecting or missing connections?
Books always called me back, though, despite my unreliable, angsty ways. I learned to embrace my passion. Reading is home. It is my lens for navigating this world. No choice ever existed, not really.
Why read? Why do I read? Because reading saves you.