What was the last book you read for fun? What about nine-year-old you?
Nine-year-old me would have been totally overwhelmed by this question. “Well I read three chapter books for fun this week, but I read them all at the same time, so I don’t know which one I read last — I think it was ‘Bridge to Terebithia’ or ‘A Wrinkle in Time,’ but it also might have been ‘The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe,’ even though I’ve read that one before.” For effect, add four speech impediments, hand-me-down floral gaucho pants and a request to show you my collection of Basset Hound postcards.
Nineteen-year-old me would also be totally overwhelmed by this question, but only because everything overwhelms 19-year-old me. “Um. I think I read ‘The Sparrow’ and ‘The Corrections’ this summer. Wait, was it this summer?”
Clearly, it was time to get my priorities back in order.
From an early age, letters, words and books were my favorite things in the world. My parents love to tell strangers how I could identify the letter “A” on signs when I was one. I started teaching my best friend to read when I was four and she was five by using the “Biscuit Storybook Collection.” My mom read me “To Kill A Mockingbird,” the “Harry Potter” series and “Animal Farm” before I went to sleep in third grade. I read voraciously; I was famous for it in our family and still receive books as gifts for every holiday and birthday.
But now, like many college students, I don’t make time in my schedule to read for pleasure. Watching “The Bachelor” re-runs after a day of class, work or studying requires much less engagement than cracking open Jonathan Franzen’s latest novel. After reading chapter upon chapter for different classes each week, the last way I want to unwind is to stare at more words on a page. And now, more than ever, the picture books, storybooks and chapter books that filled our childhoods take a backseat to friends, homework and social networks.
But we’re losing something.
I firmly believe we are nothing without books. We are shaped by them, taught by them and bettered by them. Whether we’re reading legendary tomes like “Don Quixote” or feel-good Nicholas Sparks novels, we always have something to gain from their lessons and wisdom.
I want this part of my life back.
I decided I would read for fun if it killed me.
For this week, I chose a contemporary classic and a modern satire: Khaled Hosseini’s “The Kite Runner,” and upon aggressive recommendation, Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse Five.” (Spoiler alert: both books are worth your time.)
This week was remarkably easy, but more importantly, remarkably enjoyable. I would find pockets of 20 minutes or sacrifice a re-run of “House of Cards,” and boom, I checked an hour off. If I had actually gone to the gym, I would’ve read on the stationary bike. I stayed up a half hour later and I woke up a half hour earlier to get my reading in.
By days three and four, I didn’t need to plan around it anymore. I just read whenever I could. Most exciting of all, I was reading “The Kite Runner” for almost two hours a day by the end of the week.
Reading for pleasure is deeply personal; each book, each character can change the way you look at the world by prompting self-reflection. It’s therapeutic and relaxing while still challenging you to step outside of yourself. Studies have even proven reading for pleasure lowers cognitive decline, leads to sounder sleep and improves math skills and vocabulary.
And, at least in my case, reading for fun makes me happy and lowers stress. Now I look forward to reading almost every night before bed.
So what next? If I were you, I’d start with Toni Morrison’s “Song of Solomon,” Markus Zusak’s “The Book Thief” and, if you’re feeling existential, Jean-Paul Sartre’s play “No Exit.” I hope the next time someone asks what book you last read for fun, you answer with the breathy excitement of 9-year-old me.
Next week, I’ll be going one week without television — including anything on Netflix or Hulu.
This column is dedicated to my mother, who consistently inspires me to read, learn and discover.
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