This year of reading life is turning out to be quite different. When it's all over, 2014 will probably be my year of the DNF. It's only May and I've already got a list as long as my arm of books that I have abandoned somewhere around the 50-page mark, but sometimes sooner.
This is not me. Since reading is my sport, I generally feel duty-bound to struggle through a book even if it is a miserable reading experience. Why? I get that feeling of accomplishment as I add another book to my reading journal. Also, I get the added perk of being able to bitch about it to
Although my spirits positively bubble at the thought of writing a scathing review, I just can't be bothered to get along with a book that hasn't immediately engaged me. Not anymore. Spring Fling has taken on a whole new meaning. Just this week, I've said You're Outta Here to 3 books.
There's a new me in town, and I'm not sure I like her. Am I getting old and cranky? Have I lost my bookworm mojo?