Reading in a tree

I loved the sketch of the girl reading in a tree from my Reading: public vs private post so much, I had to make it the header for this blog.  I like to imagine the girl’s thinking: “Forget about this life thing.  Up here, no one can distract me from my reading.”  If only we could all find such trees to escape into…climb away into a world unto own our where the troubles and stress of everyday life falls away and we can be with ourselves, our thoughts, and anyone else we choose to invite.

This blog has been an existential experiment for me.  I thought that if I created a “professional” blog, then I could lend myself, and my writing, an air of credibility.  I’ve always wanted to be a writer, but after I graduated from college, I realized no one else really cared about that dream.  No one wanted to hire me.  There were no jobs for aspiring writers and editors.  At least, none for those unwilling to give up their lives and loved ones, all for a pipe dream in a forbidding city.  I felt unimportant, so I created a “book blog” to build up that aura of importance around my work once again. I thought if I climbed into my tree, let the recession-riddled world fall away and focused on what I love most–stories–I would find…something, anything.  Anything that would bring me back to a path where my dreams made sense again.

Then, updating became something of a chore.  I enjoy journalism, but working as a journalist for a non-existent audience is tough.  It was so tough to find the motivation that, instead, I turned to my thoughts:  the quotes or passages that touched me, book reviews, songs I love, rants about unruly bookstore customers.  This seemed to work, but today I realized something; I think about more things than books.  Don’t get me wrong; I live and breath the damn things.  I buy and sell used books on a daily basis, I read more than anyone I know and I spend hours perusing stupid book blogs.  But I also love to cook and bake, watch movies, freak out about my finances, and love my boyfriend.  These thoughts are important as well, so why should they be left out?

I’ve had a lot of blogs over the years, and they always change.  But it seems they always come down to my life, in all its random glories.  So, as you might already expect, things are going to change around here.  I don’t want to get too personal (I’ve definitely made that mistake), but I’ve found that opening myself up makes my writing better and my thoughts more authentic.  I’m still foolish, and I’ll probably always have an old-fashioned soft spot for paperback books.  But now I’m reporting on the whole me, and how those silly books influence the rest of my life.

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