Wowzer! I can't believe I did it. Seven books in a week. It doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're going from maybe one per seven-night, it is.
I feel terribly proud of myself. I know It's only been one stupid week, but I'm still bursting with triumph. It was a good week. Four lovely kid's books, an exploration of guilt and shame, a novella about evil and a play about who knows what. Yes, a very good week.
This whole project may be a waste of time, but it's certainly less of a waste than looking up this season's make-up trends on magazine websites, watching celebrity interviews and moping about my looks. This is going to sound so pompous, but I honestly feel like my life has been richer. I've had more to think about.
Golly, I hope I keep doing this. What would it be like if I could tell people in a casual way, "Oh, when I was 21 I read a book every day for a year. And they weren't all short books, let me tell you!" (I keep picturing the people I so suavely relate this fascinating anecdote to as being a pack of admiring little grandchildren all piled up around my chair and sitting on my lap, and I a sweet, fluffy old lady with hair all different shades of gray. It's rather lovely.) What a conceited fool I am. But a happy fool!
GOALS: I'd like to read something really long this week. I've been planning to alternate short books and long books, so that when I read short books I can also begin the long ones and finish them the next day. I'd also like to check out some non-fiction. Maybe about plants or birds or something. Non-fiction tends to take me longer, but I'd like to read more of it. Mostly, I just want to stick to the project. Even if it means reading a picture book while I'm brushing my teeth, I want to read something every day.
By George, I'm having a jolly time.