What can I say? What excuse can I provide? It’s winter in the midwest. I’m in a reading slump. Nothing is interesting (but things are going well). It’s just low key weeks of work followed by low key weekends of your typical weekend things.
This time last year I was on a reading high. This year? Not so much. Once I identified and acknowledged the reading slump, I sought a solution. I thought maybe I needed something easy, something devourable. A book I can fly through. A starter book, if you will. Then I remembered I’d been wanting to revisit Stephen King. So I turned to my library and found his book 11-22-63, which I’d heard over and over was great. I checked it out and dove in to this nearly 900 page megabook.
And, it is readable. But…but…there’s just nothing there to sink my teeth into. I thought I needed a “quick lit,” something to get my reading mojo back, but I’m left feeling dissatisfied. Now, this could be partially due to the fact that this isn’t a short read. It rivals several of the Harry Potter books in length. I remember the exact page where I realized I just wasn’t interested in the book: page 489. I remember because I commented to my husband that I wasn’t looking forward to reading the rest of the book. I kept an incredibly open mind up until that point though, never doubting that King would suck me in. And, I’m not saying that it’s King’s fault that I couldn’t get into this book. In fact, I feel pretty confident in saying, “Stephen, it’s not you… its me.” Maybe if I’d picked up this book at another point in my reading year, or maybe read it 4 years ago I’d have a different feeling about it. But, as it stands, I am forcing myself to finish. As we all know, I can’t possibly put a book down. Even if I’m not interested. Only about 120 more pages to go.
Meanwhile, I’ve got my first Haruki Murakami on hold at the library, which I’m really excited about… and I am finally going to read that book that everyone else has read: All the Light We Cannot See.
Party on, Garth!