Romancing the Library
I'm writing without any sort of inspiration or motivation other than a kind of dogged determination to KEEP WRITING. I started this and I'm going to KEEP DOING IT. Even if it's very low quality.
Dutch is participating in the library Summer Reading Program. She collects credits for increments of time spent being read to, and gets prizes for reaching stages along the way. I don't know why they don't reward parents for this, since we're the ones doing the reading. They should have little airplane-serving-size liquor bottles as prizes. Because I felt gypped, I signed up for the Adult Summer Reading Program, which allows you to enter for a drawing for some grownup-style prizes if you submit a list of six books you read over the summer. Six books in three months. Those of you who are acquainted with my reading style know that I can account for six books in three days, mostly because I skim most of what I "read" and because I read exceptionally trashy books, many of which aren't even worth skimming. I'm not ashamed to read my trashy books on public transit, but somehow I find that I am ashamed to tell the library that I'm reading them. Obviously, the librarians know I read trashy books, because I check them out and even put them on hold, but somehow it's more embarrassing to record them. So far I've managed to identify only two books I'm not ashamed of having read this summer - "On Beauty," by Zadie Smith (recommended by my friend The Lawyer Lady) and "The Yiddish Policemen's Union," by Michael Chabon. That's it, out of all the books I've read in the last two months. So now I have to make a reading list of Actual Literature and get down to business, so I can finish up my list in good faith. Any recommendations?
Dutch is participating in the library Summer Reading Program. She collects credits for increments of time spent being read to, and gets prizes for reaching stages along the way. I don't know why they don't reward parents for this, since we're the ones doing the reading. They should have little airplane-serving-size liquor bottles as prizes. Because I felt gypped, I signed up for the Adult Summer Reading Program, which allows you to enter for a drawing for some grownup-style prizes if you submit a list of six books you read over the summer. Six books in three months. Those of you who are acquainted with my reading style know that I can account for six books in three days, mostly because I skim most of what I "read" and because I read exceptionally trashy books, many of which aren't even worth skimming. I'm not ashamed to read my trashy books on public transit, but somehow I find that I am ashamed to tell the library that I'm reading them. Obviously, the librarians know I read trashy books, because I check them out and even put them on hold, but somehow it's more embarrassing to record them. So far I've managed to identify only two books I'm not ashamed of having read this summer - "On Beauty," by Zadie Smith (recommended by my friend The Lawyer Lady) and "The Yiddish Policemen's Union," by Michael Chabon. That's it, out of all the books I've read in the last two months. So now I have to make a reading list of Actual Literature and get down to business, so I can finish up my list in good faith. Any recommendations?
Comments