I’m a self confessed bookworm and am no stranger to reading more than one book in a day. Naturally, I went off to university study literature. With a degree that requires an extensive amount of reading I thought I would be in my element.
However, this is totally not the case. To say that I find reading a little bit of a drag would be an understatement. Don’t get me wrong, I still love reading and get super inspired by books that I read, but my motivation and ability to read is at an all time low.
Confession: I have not read a book for pleasure in over a year.
Nowadays, the only books I read are force fed to me from a never-ending reading list of doom. As an avid reader in my pre-uni years, I read books mostly before I went to bed. My mind has therefore been conditioned to fall asleep whenever I read a book. My flatmates can vouch for the many times they have caught me snoring with a book in my hand or on my face.
Samuel Beckett’s Happy Days was only 39 pages; I fell asleep 3 times. I suck at life.
Not only is the material being rammed into my brain, there is also SO much of it!
This is the current stack of books that I have on the go. The top half of the pile is only a fraction of the compulsory reading that I need to do for September. The bottom half is extra critical reading for my dissertation research. Knowing that I have this much (and more) to read makes it difficult to get through at the best of times. It’s like going on a marathon run and knowing you still have 20 miles left; soul destroying to say the least.
However, when reading all these ‘classics’, it’s easy to see why, as students, we have to read them. All are super inspiring, rich in content and have significantly more to say about that world than this rant of a blog post I’m publishing.