I remember back in the "old days", I'd hurry to Goodwill and buy a dozen books, and then savor them, one by one - generally two or three a week. I'd draw up a nice, hot, extra-bubbly bubble bath, slide into the bath, then climb into the story. The water would start to get cool, and I'd add more hot. Sometimes over and over and over because I just couldn't bring myself to put the book down. It was a fantastic way to de-stress!
These days, I'm limited in what I can read. It generally can't be any longer than a short news article, or I'll forget what was at the top before I'm halfway to the bottom. It's extremely weird to me, as I have ALWAYS been a reader. Even as a first grader, I would wander down to the library (less than a block from my home), and check out as many Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden books as they would allow...and they allowed me to check out twice as many as the rules stated for children.
Walking through Walmart the other day, I saw a book by one of my favorite authors, Tess Gerritsen, and I reached up to pick it up before I realized...wait...I won't be able to read it. It would be a complete waste of money. It was like a nice, swift kick in the gut to realize I may never be able to enjoy the new books by my favorite authors.
I used to be terrified that one day, I'd go blind, like my grandmother has. She, too, was a voracious reader. It never, ever occurred to me that it wouldn't be my eyes, but my own brain that would turn against me.
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