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Most writers I know bemoan their lack of time to read. Life gets in the way, they say, and I can see how it does.
Even those of us who are retired—be it in the lap of luxury, or holding the wolf at bay on the other side of the door—are preoccupied with any number of things that keep us from our first—or perhaps second—love. Reading.
Appropriate to nothing, I am reminded of an old episode of Twilight Zone (no, not THAT twilight, ask your parents) starring Burgess Meredith. It was about a little man with huge thick glasses who wanted nothing more from life than peace, quiet, and books to read. One day the world ended. That is to say society came crashing down, and people, all but him, vanished. When he came out into the day he saw with relief that he was, at last, alone. Joyfully, he made his way to the library where he would begin reading for the rest of his life… but as he went up the stairs, he tripped. His glasses fell off, and broke.
Like many of you I have succumbed to the world of eBooks, and bought a Kindle.
Like many of you I have learned what it is that Amazon.com really did to me by making the thing so inexpensive. I am more than ever addicted to books, and have bought more novels in the last six months than in the previous six years. I’ve read most of them by now, too.
Well and good, well and good.
Except that today I hooked my Kindle up to my computer to see just how much of its free space was left. (See, I found a cache of public domain books that is very large, and I wanted to put some of them on the Kindle.)
I currently have close to 200 books on my hand-held library (including two of my own novels), and it turns out I have barely touched the free space therein. Mine has 3.05 gigabytes of space, and with everything I’ve uploaded, I still have 2.97 gigabytes left.
If I fill this reader up there will be more books on it than I can read in a lifetime, assuming I do other things like eat, sleep, and have some small amount of social interaction with flesh and blood people.
I am alarmed at this. I never really thought about all of the books I will miss. There are so many out there, and so many more added every day, that you can never do more than get a whiff of them.
It’s like I broke my glasses.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio... and isn't it time you experienced some of them?
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I came to the realization that I could do no more than the best I could at the moment. A bit like SLTW here! So the conclusion was to make the most of what I am doing!!!! Really SLTW here! I can’t read all the books; see all the world; experience all of the people in it. So I’ve just got to concentrate by doing what I can, little by little, bit by bit, always with the awareness to be occupied in making ‘it’ better. So the book gets rewritten. I get rewritten. Not only that, but I ran across a saying not too long ago, (sorry can’t give reference) that there ‘should’ come a time in a person’s life when they stop amassing information, experience, and just stop for the rest of one’s time, to consider/reconsider what it means to you. In other words, it is at my age, a time to practice wisdom, rather than philosophy, (although I will continue to write about it) and make the major attempt one of integrating my experience, and life history. I am still reading mind you, but not with the anxious need that used to accompany my previous obsession!!!! grin grin.
A thought-provoking reply, Loreen. I especially like your phrase, “…I get rewritten…” I think so few of us realized that growth is more than adding on new ideas. It is taking them in and folding them into what we already know or suspect, and making new thoughts, ideas, experiences out of the result. Well done!