As I mentioned in my last post, despite everything going on, I was looking forward to having some time where I didn’t have to focus on academia and could finally focus on reading for pleasure. This post veers a bit away from my actual foray back to reading leisurely and a bit into what was going on in the rest of my life at the time of my diagnosis.
No longer a student
Prior to my diagnosis, I was a student. Within months of receiving my Bachelors degree, I was back in school to pursue a Masters.
The day of my diagnosis was actually the first day of school. I remember emailing my teachers to let them know that I would be unable to attend the first class. The only things I really knew how to do and focus on was student life: reading academic articles, studying, writing academic papers. It’s really all I had known since I started my Bachelors degree in 2009. Continue reading Rekindling my love for reading (Part II)
My fiancé knows that when I’m feeling sad, nervous, or any other negative feelings, the best way to cheer me up is to take me to a bookstore and let me be among the books.
He knows that one of the best ways to bring up my mood is to let me browse titles, take in cover art, and dream of a day when I might see my own writing on one of those shelves.
Reading as a teenager
For as long as I can remember, I have always felt the safest and the most at home in bookstores. When I was living in Niagara Falls, Canada, you could find me at Chapters at least once a week, and the Book Outlet in the days following payday.
I referred to myself as an avid reader for the majority of my teen years. I was obsessed with V.C. Andrews, Rachel Cohn, and any poetry I could find.
But looking back, I spent more time collecting books — classics like Wuthering Heights, or anything with eye-catching cover at Costco — than actually reading them. I’ll be completely honest, I think I’ve only read the first 10 or so pages of Wuthering Heights, if that, since the spine is barely broken.
Continue reading Rekindling my love for reading (Part I)
When I set out to read a new work of fiction, I often choose
one of two ways:
- Straight up pick the book by its cover & blurb, which usually works out for me. Like the time I saw this edition of The Girl Who Saved The King of Sweden by Jonas Jonasson and decided I needed it. That was a great read!
- Or I read what I “should” – by that I mean that I look to see what the book bloggers are reading and make my decision that way.
In the words of Austin Powers, this book was not my bag, baby. The book’s blurb caught my attention, and with some critical acclaim for this and Mcbride’s debut novel A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing, I was convinced that I was making a good choice!
I was sadly mistaken.
I don’t think I got through more than 30 pages before I put it down because I just could not (and not in the good “OMG I JUST CAN’T” way).
Mcbride’s writing style has been described as a “stream of pre-consciousness”, which had me feeling very confused. It was very difficult to keep up with any of what was going on that I couldn’t even tell you what happened in the opening of this novel. It really felt like I was just reading groupings of a few words just pasted next to each other.
I thought it had to do with the concentration problems I’ve been experiencing through my recover and I had such a hard time figuring out what was even going on. I thought “hm if I continue another page or two maybe it will click… maybe it’s one of those books that’s dry at first but becomes unputdownable”.
……………I couldn’t even get myself to get through the first section of it. Even then, I wasn’t able to get anything from it.
My final verdict: Did not enjoy.
I was lucky enough to receive this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review.
I’m sorry for letting you down. I’m sorry for committing so strongly to you and allowing the rest of my life to get in the way.
Wait… no. I’m not sorry. This is not a “letting down” or a failure in any way. This is life. Sometimes, we make commitments that we just can’t keep. And for me, unfortunately, this was one of those times.
Continue reading A(n open) letter to NaNoWriMo
I am a girl. I am 25. I am a bride-to-be. I am a writer. I am a
sister, daughter, friend, a pizza enthusiast.
I am also a cancer survivor. Friends and family know this about me, and most people I encounter deduct this about me because I still wear a hat.
It really grinds my gears that sometimes people can only see me as the last person on that list. Most of the time, I really feel like that is the only thing people can see about me. But a few weeks ago, my perspective shifted after an (initially infuriating) exchange with a course mate.
Continue reading Car sharing and my self-image