I’m in my own personal heaven as I’m sure many the book blogger and readers currently are. There is an influx of reading material floating around out there ready for anyone to grab. And trust me I’m grabbing.
I’m grabbing at a capacity where I was actually worried my Kindle would combust with the amount of memory I was asking it to hold. But needless to say, that baby is holding up quite well.
Reading is just as important as writing in my world. Yes, it is great for escaping into a land or situation that is not your own, one that is so fantastically loving, hot or dramatic but for me it is so much more.
I need it. My brain needs it. Reading slows my thoughts down in a head where there are so many random thoughts that fly around at a speed that is guaranteed to run you over and leave you lying on the ground gasping for air.
It allows my head to focus on one thought, one story and quiets the constant chattering, the constant noise allowing me to breath. Breathing is important. Just as important as quiet still moments are. And because of this you will never, ever hear me complain there are too many books in this world.