I can't tell the blogging world how many times I have begun a blog. It really is pretty disgusting. Every single time I promise myself that my blog will not be trite, that it will speak to others, that it will mean something. This is sentimental hogwash, probably. Nevertheless, I felt inspired again. So here I am.
In order for me to care about a blog, I think it must be about something outside of myself. My husband is a teacher and I recently sang for one of his choirs. It was the act 2 closer of Little Women: The Musical, "Astonishing." When I asked the girls how many of them had read the book "Little Women," I was appalled. One girl out of sixty eighth and ninth graders. I read "Little Women" when I was ten.
Of course, before I could get too judgmental about these girls, I realized that I hadn't sat down to read a good novel in ages. As a matter of fact, I couldn't remember the last time I read a book all the way through. What ever happened to that ten year old whose mother pried books out of her cold hands?
Therein lies the reason for this blog. I am sure I will have very few readers, but if I could inspire even a few to being reading again or to pick up a great piece of literature, it will be worth it.
I have decided that by this time next year I will have read 100 books that I have never read before. Some will be novels, others biographies or self-help books. I'm going to start with the shelves in my living room and work from there. We really have an obscene amount of literature in our tiny apartment. It's disgusting.
Right now I have a list of 51 books, but I will add more... I haven't even gotten through my bookcase downstairs. And there's two more to go in our guest bedroom...
Books to Read: 100