Nothing can be more precarious than a reader’s life.
Now, you may raise your brows, even gasp, if it is really what you want to do, and whisper or angrily throw at me, “Don’t you watch the news, my dear friend?”
And I would be extremely glad to hear that you consider me your friend.
But if I am really your friend or, at least, you want to know me better, there are two things that I love about writing and that have become a part of my writing personality.
First, I do fictionalize everything I write about. I decorate my stories with ornate details, and even when I write about mundane things, I can’t help but do it wearing the most exquisite jewels of words that came into my possession.
The second thing is that I'm really into exaggerations. Take, for example, the first statement of this post. Logically, I’m absolutely aware of the fact that there are a thousand and one awful things that are happening in the world right now. And that one's reading life is by no means in danger.
But, but, since I’m a sucker for all things fiction, here, in the blog, I’ve been creating my version of an ivory tower, which looks more like a dim-lit study with candles and books everywhere. In this cozy and snug study, nothing really bad may happen. Well, except the gray clouds of reality that hang over my reading life.
So, let’s get back to the cheerful first statement of this newsletter – not a post, for books’ sake! – about my reader’s life that is precarious.
The first problematic thing is that I, and you, have to work. Now, I know that my students may be reading these lines, and that’s why I’m immediately adding that I’m in love with my work. (And students.)
And still, apart from work, there are thousands of trifles that must be done – like doing some household chores, for instance – and that step inhumanly between me and my precious books.
(And that’s why, by the way, I’m pushing harder to promote my literary projects. Because even if it is a stale cliché that if you do what you love, you will not work a day for the rest of your life, I wouldn’t mind working in a more book- and literature-related sphere.)
And then I’m thirty-three, which means for me that however I’ve been enjoying my childless life, having a blast in my married childless life, if, one day, I want to read Harry Potter to someone little, bearing a weird combination of my and my husband’s DNA, it’s time to think about my fertility now.
And now, my first preoccupation is not to think about how I will nourish my offspring and if I'll have enough resources to share with them. It’s not even how I’m going to have it all: a family life and my career.
No.
My first preoccupation is that I won't have time to read books. Well, at least not as much as I did last year.
Last year, I beat my record and read a lot (won't put any numbers here, because it's not a competition).
What helped me was:
1) listen to audiobooks (now, I'm a huge fan of doing the dishes)
2) limit the time I spend online
3) always have a book in my bag
4) change my mindset.
The last point is the most important one. For years, I considered reading books a privilege I couldn't grant myself (why? have no clue!).
But when I learned to put myself and my needs (reading books is one of them) first, reading books became a priority.
And while we may say that it’s not the numbers that count, let’s just admit it: all these bookstagrams and Goodreads communities and whatnot are quite obsessed with numbers and, in a way, impose the number-of-books-you-read mentality on us.
That’s why, keeping in mind the possibility of being quite fertile and thus having way less time in the future for reading books, I've decided not to read ravenously now but to cultivate a new attitude toward my reading process.
And that’s how my idea of reading slowly with a notebook in my hands was born. Instead of beating myself up for not reading a lot, I’ve decided to use this energy for reading slowly and paying attention to every tiny detail.
Maybe today, I will read only one paragraph. But I will make sure that I make the most of it. (Holy moly, too many makes, too many ands in such a short text!)
But as they say, it never rains but pours.
And two days ago, we got a lovely and the least expected call from our landlady, who was happy to announce that, after blissful four years of renting her apartment to us, she decided that it was time to bid adieu and let us test other charming districts of Paris.
In other words, we have to find another apartment.
Well, let’s forget about how great the apartment we’ve been living in for four years is – central heating, the Buttes-Chaumont park across the street, and lovely gardiens are not a joke! – and think about what year it is.
It is 2024.
What is so special about 2024?
Think better.
Paris, 2024.
Nothing comes to your mind?
The freaking Olympic games!
Which means that finding an apartment in Paris now will be like the quest for the Holy Grail! Bonne chance, Aleksandra and her husband Antoine.
Now, you may be asking yourself what it has to do with the precarity of my reading life. And now, watch carefully how my brain works.
If we find an apartment quickly, well, then, nothing will endanger my reading life.
And if not?
Then we will have to squat in my mother-in-law’s apartment, which is actually great and overlooks Sacré-Coeur and the Eiffel Tower. (Yep, you got it right.)
The problem is, what am I going to do with my books in the meantime? My hardcovers I cherish so much? I’ve just gotten used to reading physical books and realized that Kindle is okay but nothing can beat the pleasure of holding physical books in your hands.
Will my husband allow me to bring two boxes of my chers books with me wherever we will have to spend our nights during this homeless time?
Oh, how easier life would be if I, say, were into dresses or jewelry! Dresses don’t weigh much. Jewelry doesn’t need two cardboard boxes to be transported.
But I am a book lover.
And my comfortable reading life is in danger.
(When I just shared my reading fears with my husband, he chuckled. Poor, poor thing! He got used to my panicking and worrying and the quirks of my brain. And if it is not love, then I have no clue what love really is.)
"Instead of beating myself up for not reading a lot, I’ve decided to use this energy for reading slowly and paying attention to every tiny detail." I find this works well for me on a Kindle - I enjoy highlighting quotes and making notes. Good luck with your boxes of books! I know what it feels like to be carting them around the world.
Hola , Creo Que En Varios Momentos De Mí Vida He Tenido Los Mismo Pensamientos Y Precupaciones Que Tú. Yo Soy Un Adicto A La Lectura , Al Igual Que La Música , Siempre Que Leo Escucho Música ( Sí Parece Raro Pero Soy Geminis Y Puedo Con Todo ) , Leo Y Apunto En Libretas Esas Frases Que Me Impactan , Normalmente Tardo Un Promedio De Tres Días En Leer Un Libro , Siempre En Papel. Sobre Las Mudanzas Sólo Puedo Decir Qué Son Una Pesadilla Para Mí , Este Verano Me Traslade A Una Nueva Casa , Y Mí Mayor Preocupación Fue Él Traslado De Mí Biblioteca ( 15.000 Vol. ) , Toda Una Aventura Y Un Mal De Cabeza , Pero Con Un Buen Final. Un Saludo.