Hi, remember me? The book blogger with an obscene amount of books and no desire to actually pick them up and read them?
I am in the worst reading slump of my entire life. I haven't been reading consistently for the past SIX MONTHS. SIX! MONTHS! Half a year.
That isn't to say I haven't read at all. There have been books I've read and enjoyed, and I even fully intended on reviewing them here. Especially Mackenzi Lee's This Monstrous Thing and Lauren DeStefano's A Curious Tale of the In-Between, both of which I loved.
I've also read tons of graphic novels and children's books. But my novel reading habits have been woefully pathetic. I've read a few books I promised friends I would read, a few books for my grad program, a few books for funsies... but my once ever-present drive to read and never stop reading burnt out around last May, and I haven't been able to jump-start it again.
The really crazy part is, I have amassed over 100 new books for my shelves in the last six months. The majority of which have been through giveaways, trades, and book events I've attended. And each time I have a new book in my hands, I think, "This is it. The book that will get me reading again." But no, I put it down on a shelf, and the poor thing languishes there along with the rest of them.
I have so many other commitments that take up a lot of time in my life, and I don't feel like I even have to time to pleasure read. But the thing is, I used to make time. I side-eyed people who said, "I'm too busy to read." To me, when people say that, it just means they don't count it as a priority. Reading is a priority for me. A form of self-care. It's what has driven me to the career path I've chosen.
I think it all probably comes down to me putting too much pressure on myself, which is why I haven't been reading like I used to. And this pressure turns into guilt. At this point, I've decided to just ride it out like a wave. And then (hopefully) one day I will wake up renewed and ready to binge read with the best of 'em.