Braving MTBR*

Last year, I didn't read all that much. This may not seem like a big problem, a lot of people don't read all that much. However, I'm not only a student of literary studies, I'm also the owner of many, many, MANY unread books, some of them my own, some of them obtained via Bookcrossing (and therefore longing to be on the road again). Plus, I really like reading. The other two things wouldn't have happened if that wasn't the case.

I know what held me up last year - Tad Williams' Memory, Sorrow and Thorn-tetralogy. I'd been promising my boyfriend that I'd read these books for more than three years, since they are amongst his favourites. However - I am no longer 16, I have read a lot of non-Fantasy since I was 16, AND it was a German translation which was obviously not done very well (you know it's bad when you read the German text and KNOW that something is wrong). I had huge problems getting into the story, and had marvellous rants about how this and that annoyed me about said book every time I finished one. My boyfriend alerted me to the fact that, if I didn't like it, I didn't really need to finish reading them all, but I was determined.
It took me from March until December. 3513 pages (I just checked). It sounds so much, but I know it could have gone much, much faster.
Anyway, most of my year was taken up by this endeavour. Which means I've maybe read about 10 books in 2011. And that IS a big problem, at least to me.

Accordingly, this year, I've got a reading resolution. One book per week, or 52 books by the end of the year. Single mangas don't count if I've read them before (I might count new ones, or at least make a separate list for them). Secondary reading for my PhD doesn't count, non-fiction books read in other contexts (I don't want to write 'for fun' since that would imply my PhD isn't) do.

This is the beginning of week five, and yes, I've read four books so far - the four Tiffany Aching novels by Terry Pratchett. I'd only read The Wee Free Men, back when it came out, and the follow-ups have led a sad and ignored life until now (except for when my boyfriend read them, resulting in him having read more Pratchett than me, which was, frankly, ridiculous). I've read them now, enjoyed them, learned from them. They have been an excellent start into this new year.

I'm currently reading The Heart of Buddha's Teaching by Thich Nhat Hanh (setting me straight about some of my beliefs about what Buddhism teaches), and will, I think, soon start on The English Patient (which I've read before, but will read again for an exam, and because it's good).

My parentheses are also still going strong. Hah. 

*Mount To Be Read. Hey, listen.

Once more unto the breach my friends

I love writing. I love language. I love stories.
I am, in fact, attempting to write more than 200 pages of PhD stuff on the power of storytelling.
Why then do I not keep up with this blog?

Who knows. I'll just try again.
I may write about nothing of great importance. I may write about the banalities of daily life, like "Oooh, look, I bought a sweater with shiny stripes!", accompanied by a picture of said sweater. I might do nothing but complain about how all those big ideas I have are so hard to make into a reality.
Then again, I may write about said big ideas, and successes, and how the banalities of daily life can actually make up said life, and make it a happy one.
Who knows. I'll just try again.