I started a new book last night, which is a bit laughable: I am now currently reading 4 books, all in various stages of progress, and all with such good intentions. Remember my goals to read while nursing? Yeah. I’ve got books stashed all over the place, but neither the energy nor attention span to make serious progress with them.
Books, books, everywhere but not a moment to read. Here’s how my best intentions shake out:
Garlic and Sapphires by Ruth Reichl. Now, I started this book when I was pregnant and enjoying long open stretches of time with little to do. I had just binged on books of poetry, read while bouncing on my yoga ball, trying to open my cervix while reading Mary Oliver. So after that proved thoroughly wonderful but ultimately unsuccessful at opening of said cervix, I turned to Ruth Reichl’s memoir about being a restaurant critic. I am almost halfway through this book, which now sits on my coffee table, often under a pile of magazines and burp cloths and my empty lunch plate.
Scenes from an Impending Marriage by Adrian Tomine. So I thought, hey, if I’m having a hard time finishing a memoir, then a graphic memoir might be the ticket! Comics read faster, after all. I had occasion to make a solo trip to the library, and I browsed the comics section and found Tomine’s book. I’ll be honest – it’s short and that’s why I picked it. Set the bar low, read a short book, it’ll be so easy. I’ve read ten pages and it’s currently sitting on my dresser, which is ridiculous: I’m never nursing near my dresser, so how am I to sit down and read it?
Great with Child: Letters to a Young Mother by Beth Ann Fennelly. A friend sent me this book, and it seemed to perfect – short letters, stuff that’s directly relevant to my current situation. I’ve made the most progress on this lovely collection of letters that poet Beth Ann Fennelly wrote to a friend and former student after she found out she was pregnant. It’s funny, it makes me cry, and inspires me. This one follows me around the house and is often found draped, open, over pillows.
And now, as of last night,
Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson. Call it escapism, but I need a funny read, and The Bloggess, Jenny Lawson, cracks me up. This is my first book of hers. I read exactly five pages last night before I passed out at 8:30 because that’s kind of my life now. But those five pages were solid. And because it’s on my Kindle, who knows, maybe it’ll be in the running to become a Book I Finish Despite My Baby’s Antics.