I really love books (clearly . . . I write them). Reading makes me happy. Reading improves my writing. Nothing satiates my imagination like a good book. The benefits to reading are endless. And yet I find myself surrounded by a gazillion books on shelves and in baskets on the floor of my room--all lonely and wishing I'd read them. I start them, and they feel loved and admired for a couple of days. And then they sit there lonely before I ever finish them.
Not this year.And so I thought I'd blog about it and hope that knowing I've written it here will hold me a bit accountable. So I'm starting Hopscotch by South American (though born in Belgium) author Julio Cortazar today. There are two ways to read this book, and I think I'm going for the second way, which begins with chapter 73 and takes you on a haphazard journey of chapters to discover the story. I'll post more later.
I found this video of the NZ Book Council on an artist's blog the other day when I was looking up orizomegami (more on that art and what I'm doing with it another day), and I think it's appropriate for my year of books coming to life. And it's just pretty darn creative:
May you find time to let books come to life in your life this year . . .
1 comment:
look forward to hearing what you think.
Post a Comment