I recently noticed something alarming (and embarrassing) about the current state of my life. I have not been in the habit of reading books. I buy them, I download them to my Kindle, I think about reading them, but I don’t actually read them. I have an alarming assortment of books on my nightstand and on my Kindle, and up until this past week, I had read approximately two (or less) chapters of each of them.
I spend a great deal of time reading things on the internet (as do you, I imagine), and have noticed that I am somewhat averse to what I’ve seen tagged on twitter as #longreads. Since much of my online consumption happens via my iPhone, I’ll immediately begin skimming and scanning any sort of #longreads and generally leave whatever it is alone, well before I know what is *really* being said. This time spent in front of an iPhone likely has something to do with the alarming decline in my reading, as does the direct motivation to read academic work (this is dumb, I know, I’m a Professional Student, for crying out loud).
And so this week, I’ve hopped over to my couch, to a coffee shop, and to a bar in the middle of the day to Read a Book. I hope to finish it tonight, and perhaps start another one this weekend. Consider this a professional procrastinator tactic for now: I’m reading books (slightly) related to my research in order to avoid the hard work of dealing with my research. It’s OK though, I had a friend suggest today that August 1 sounds like a great time to really get going with the Work. I concur.