(1) this is the way baby mac reads.
(2) this is the way my other niece, MMM, reads now.
(3) this is the way she began.
(4) this is the way MMM and i read together.
(5) this is the way my nephew L reads and shares and smiles.
(6) and this is the way i started reading. (the lack of joy on my face is, i can only presume, because i was annoyed at having my reading time interrupted.)
how did YOU start reading? or, simply, what makes YOU smile?
after writing THIS POST and after listening to THE WITNESS, THE SCORPIO RACES and THE GURNSEY LITERARY AND POTATO PEEL PIE SOCIETY, i realized there’s one more style of reading.
listening.
whether it’s an audio book or someone’s reading aloud to you, there’s nothing quite like this style of reading. there’s something about the words floating to your brain from your ears instead of from your eyes that ignites the imagination. there’s probably a more technical definition, but i think it’s got something to do with the fact that listening requires less brain power than reading which frees up the imagination portion of the mind.
and when the narrator is good, it can really elevate a story. it’s a completely different medium than a movie, but it’s also very different than the regular act of reading. basically, however you want to classify it, i like it.
of course, we all know the original audio book was the bedtime story. snuggled under the covers with dim lighting and a soothing voice reading to you? there’s nothing like it. then again, my bedtime story cannot be of the scary variety because we all know monsters live in the shadows and i don’t want them creeping closer to my bed because they think i like to be scared, no siree. happily ever after, please!
or, well, maybe a story about these guys would be okay.
how about you? do you like audiobooks? being read to? are you an auditory learner or a visual one? does that make a difference? do you like to read aloud? can you make funny voices? how much money is there in being an audiobook narrator? is that enough of a variety of questions to get YOU to comment?
for the first time this summer, the temperatures are rising in the northeast and there’s not much i can do to keep cool other than sit as still as possible and read (and maybe eat ice cream and/or drink very cold beer and/or slurp down some other iced beverages and/or eat flavor ice).
ahem.
where was i? oh yes, reading. here are some of the very cool books i’ve read lately…
UNDER THE NEVER SKY by veronica rossi
ENDER’S GAME by orson scott card
A NEED SO BEAUTIFUL by suzanne young
THE SINGLES by meredith goldstein
**CODE NAME VERITY by elizabeth wein
*WONDER by r.j. palacio
**THE WITNESS by nora roberts
UNRAVELING by elizabeth norris
THE ELEVENTH PLAGUE by jeff hirsch
THE SEARCH FOR WONDLA by tony diterlizzi
and here are the books i’m working on now…
WILD by cheryl strayed
LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD by tamara morgan
and thanks to the GENIUS that is kelly breakey, i’ve got THREE FATES by nora roberts on my kindle (app). i was so blown away by THE WITNESS by nora roberts that i decided she’s probably a bestselling author for a reason. i turned to kelly for some advice on which book(s) i should read next because kel’s not only a voracious reader, but gives great book recommendations when i decide to branch out of the YA genre (hello, PARADISE).
the next thing i know, i’ve got multiple emails from her. one listing four titles and another containing a download gift link to THREE FATES. what the what?!? girl is so generous and so trusting of ms. roberts’s talents, she gave me one of the books she had just recommended.
granted, this method of delivery probably had to do with the constraint that we’re not next door neighbors, but seriously, it was as heartwarming as if she’d knocked on my door and had a plate of chocolate chip cookies in one hand and THREE FATES in the other.
wait, wasn’t i trying to cool down?
all it takes is a spark to turn one’s imagination into this:
pardon me while i continue searching for that spark.
i have a frown on my face. my body feels heavy and my focus is fractured. i’m unable to give anything any thought longer than a minute.
except the thought i miss my family.
this quiet, this solitude i craved is too much, too big, too not what i truly want. i want to return to the chaos of my family, the lack of privacy, and time, and choice. i want my day to be structured around the babies mac and making them laugh and chalk drawings and leggos and fisher price toys and guessing when sister E will wake up and how do i get her to buy that adorable dress and walks around the neighborhood and laundry (no quarters needed!) and shopping and ways to help sister J cool down and talking and sharp bursts of misunderstanding and letting our hair down and wearing PJs until 2pm because there’s never time to shower and change when the babies mac are awake and commanding attention and emptying the dishwasher and making dinner and a too small kitchen table and when to ask dad to make us cocktails and naps and misguided tours and that pantry and bagels and ice cream and shuffling the cards for mom because her thumbs are sore from too many years of doing that exact motion and technological adventures and laughter and discussions with bro-in-law T about bird bones and moving trucks and how even he likes THE HUNGER GAMES.
i want to walk over to the sink and find it full of dishes, even though i just did them 15 minutes ago. it’s life lived messily, but loved cleanly.
i want to be where one equals one family instead of just me.
Abigail Mumford 