I'm not an avid reader by any measure. I've become a theek thak reader this year after my New Years resolution of one book per week, inspired by Mr. ex-President George Clooney. Or was it George Bush? I can't remember :) And it doesn't matter. I was beyond impressed that after all that he was doing to bring this country to the state that it is in today, he still managed to read 95 books in 2008. It made me ashamed of my non-existent book reading record and hence the New Year resolution.
It's almost been 6 months and I'm no where close to a book a week but it's significantly better than last year's! Here's the tricky part. Every now and again, I go to the library and pick out some interesting books. Non-fiction, memoirs, knowledge books, classics, books for my profession, etc. I get them, I put them on the corner table, I see them everyday and I ignore them. Royally. Instead, I resort to fun, smart and light reads for women or Chick Lit as it is popularly referred to as.
Remember Me?, Cocktails for three, What would you do to save the world?, The devil wears prada, Chapatti or Chips?, Confessions of a shopaholic, Chasing Harry Winston, crap by Shobha De... the list is endless. I've caught myself re-reading some of them as if reading once wasn't enough. The excuse I give to myself is, the 'other' books require peace of mind and dedication and I'm a working mom of a one year old monkey who's constantly on a destructive spree. Where is the time? But it is just that, an excuse.
My dad is the editor of a political-social magazine, my hubby reads 'intelligent' books that sound like a lot of work to me and my baby's into general knowledge books (fuzzy animal pocket books count as GK, no?) and I, ladies and gentleman, read Chick Lit.
The catch is, I am hooked. I cannot believe I admitted it in on a public site but I love chick lit. It's funny, it's entertaining, it’s witty from time to time and it helps to provide the much needed distraction from the craziness of urban lives. But it is a trap as well. A gripping one. And I don't know if I can come out of it. Ever.
Gimme a hand?
Photo credit: www.pcij.org
It's almost been 6 months and I'm no where close to a book a week but it's significantly better than last year's! Here's the tricky part. Every now and again, I go to the library and pick out some interesting books. Non-fiction, memoirs, knowledge books, classics, books for my profession, etc. I get them, I put them on the corner table, I see them everyday and I ignore them. Royally. Instead, I resort to fun, smart and light reads for women or Chick Lit as it is popularly referred to as.
Remember Me?, Cocktails for three, What would you do to save the world?, The devil wears prada, Chapatti or Chips?, Confessions of a shopaholic, Chasing Harry Winston, crap by Shobha De... the list is endless. I've caught myself re-reading some of them as if reading once wasn't enough. The excuse I give to myself is, the 'other' books require peace of mind and dedication and I'm a working mom of a one year old monkey who's constantly on a destructive spree. Where is the time? But it is just that, an excuse.
My dad is the editor of a political-social magazine, my hubby reads 'intelligent' books that sound like a lot of work to me and my baby's into general knowledge books (fuzzy animal pocket books count as GK, no?) and I, ladies and gentleman, read Chick Lit.
The catch is, I am hooked. I cannot believe I admitted it in on a public site but I love chick lit. It's funny, it's entertaining, it’s witty from time to time and it helps to provide the much needed distraction from the craziness of urban lives. But it is a trap as well. A gripping one. And I don't know if I can come out of it. Ever.
Gimme a hand?
Photo credit: www.pcij.org
2 comments:
Hail 'chicklit'- ites!
no no i have to break free.
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