A few months ago, my sis-in-law invited me to join a book club. Despite working in book publishing for 7 years (omg, that seems scary long), I'd become a less than joyous personal reader. I spent my days working with authors, writing back cover copy, working on marketing strategies... I began reading only the books we were publishing and fell into the terrible rut of rarely reading for myself.
As an English major and a lover of creative writing, I missed it. Still, the madness of living in NYC followed by the move, the restaurant and other distractions, provided plenty of excuses to rush on to the next overscheduled moment.
During the past few months, I force myself to read at least a book a month. And guess what? I'm reading even more than that. On the agenda this month?
Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan
Great with Child by Beth Ann Fennelly (my college poetry professor!)
The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
It's a wonderfully refreshing change to set aside time just for myself. Being pregnant has forced me to slow down a ton. At first, this thought terrified me. Now, I realize it's taught me one of life's great lessons.
Taking time to spend moments in pursuit of those interests that make you yourself is always time well spent. It's not indulgent, but necessary to keeping in touch with what makes you tick.
(images via pinterest and amazon)