It’s strange knowing that I haven’t blogged regularly since the latter part of April. It’s even stranger that I stopped recording what books I’d read. I almost feel like when I was a newbie, that panicky sense of not really knowing what to write or how to approach a post or even if I should. Fortunately, I have a structure to fall back on, and I really hope I can re-establish the blogging habit. I miss it, and I miss you.
This afternoon, I was feeling a bit down, so I decided to give myself a task: begin piecing together the list of books I read during my break. I’ve managed to remember eighteen so far. As I looked over the list, I realised part of why I felt unmoored is that I completely retreated from my normal reading habits: next to no nonfiction or POC or international authors or even classics, just a whole bunch of contemporary fantasy and mysteries written by white US-UK authors with some historical fiction thrown in to leaven things. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that mix (and I’ve found a couple new favourite authors! I’ll tell you about another one tomorrow), but it just isn’t working for me. I miss the breadth of my normal reading world. Once I publish this post, I plan to go back to my usual ‘rotation’ style reading with a variety of books to keep my attention. At least, I plan to give it a try and hope it works out.
It’s almost frightening how quickly habits can disappear. A regular blogging habit, a habit of searching out various kinds of books, a habit of pushing myself in my reading and writing and life. It’s been a nice hibernation, and I’m sure it’s what I needed at the time, but my growing restlessness tells me it’s time to resume my old ways. I just hope they’re still there waiting for me.