TBR Challenge Results

Last Monday I posted a challenge to read through our TBRs by today, and here are my results:



I read ten books in a week; ten and half if you count the partly-read City of Dark Magic on the unfinished pile there. Bill Bryson's The Road to Little Dribbling slowed me down toward the end. I can't seem to read Bryson speedily.

While I didn't read my entire TBW, I'm quite happy to start March with just three books leftover. On a side note, I removed Anything Considered by Peter Mayle from the TBR, which I realized I'd already read back in the late nineties when it was first published (the new cover art made me think I hadn't.)

How did you all make out? Let us know in comments.

TBR Challenge

I have been sewing so much this month I haven't been reading much at all, and now I need to balance out my two favorite pastimes. Also, I have a pretty nice stack of books waiting to be read, including The Naturalist, my latest ARC from LT's Early Reviewers Program which arrived this week:



To get myself motivated, I'm going to try to read all these books before or by February 29th so I can start March without any leftovers in the TBR. Anyone want to join me and try to read through most or all of your TBR by the end of the month? Toss your name in comments if you do. No prize involved, I'm afraid, but it could be fun to see who can successful slay their TBR in a week.

Time to Read

I got a bit of a surprise this week when my college kid told me she was reading The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub; because of her current class workload (including a hefty course in western lit) I thought that she didn't have time to read for pleasure. Then she mentioned that her boyfriend had given her the book because it's his favorite, and it made a little more sense (and now I know the boyfriend is a serious reader -- gave Mama here a moment of utter joy.)

As busy as work/home/life is it's easy to assume people don't have time to read. I used to feel apologetic when I give someone outside my circle a book because I bought into that myth, but the truth is most people will make time to read a book -- as long as they're curious enough or think it's worth it. Thus getting people properly motivated to crack those covers and dive in is the real trick.

I read a lot about books online, and the one thing that captures my attention 99% of the time is humor. If you can employ something fun (a cute video, a tongue-in-cheek post, a list of laughable points) to get me interested in your book, I'm usually motivated to invest. For this reason I also frequently use humor when I recommend other author's books; I know how well it works on me.

Other factors involved in me making time for a book:

Cover art and quotes don't impress me (occupational hazard), but short and very well-written cover copy or a teaser can, as long as there is a strong, substantial hook involved. Has to be pretty tantalizing, though.

Online samples are great motivators, but I think most authors post too many chapters. At most I read only the first page or two of a sample or excerpt, and I don't think I'm alone in this.

Recs from a reliable source are great as long as they've never burned me in the past with a lousy read they've pimped for a publisher or pal. Sources can be anyone in your life -- one of my neighbors is at the top of my trusted rec list because she's never once steered me wrong.

Notoriety can create buzz but I'm kind of contrary when it comes to that; the more notorious and buzzy a book is, the faster I run from it. Interesting and thoughtful discussions about a book work better for me.

Freebies like short stories set in the same universe or part of the story told from a different angle always get my attention because I've used them so often to promote my work, and I'm always intrigued to see what other writers are doing. I like free stuff a lot, too, and a freebie gives me a chance to test-drive the author before I invest. If I don't care for it, I don't get mad because I didn't spend any money on it.

I don't borrow books from anywhere but the library, but if I was more of a dedicated e-reader I'd probably check into the loaner options the e-booksellers offer and swap books with another e-reader pal. Unfortunately my Nook died last summer and I haven't gotten around to replacing it.

What motivates you to make time to read? Let us know in comments.

Image Credit: robynmac

On the Road

Spending a week traveling the highways and byways of America is interesting stuff. At the moment I'm in Virginia, preparing to cross a few more state lines so I can visit a waterfall I've always wanted to see (but like too many things, never got around to it until now.) I've been reading, too. I decided to pick up random novels from any interesting indie book shops I found on the road, and this has been fun. My most recent purchases are Delicious! by Ruth Reichl and The Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman from Left Bank Books in Belfast, ME.

If you enjoy stories of foodies, New York City and letter-based mysteries from WWII you should probably go out today and invest in Delicious!; it's a lovely novel that combines all three. I was surprised at how well-written it was, too -- food writers tend to focus more on the edibles in such stories, but this one has as many interesting characters as it does scrumptious dishes. The plot is likewise very well done, with the kind of twisty deftness you don't often encounter outside the genre writing community (and yes, I'd classify it as literary, but thankfully not anywhere near the God awful variety.) I haven't enjoyed a lit hardcover this much since I read The Book of Unholy Mischief.

I'm not yet sure what to make of the Hoffman book, which I finished last night. It's very ambitious, and works hard at being one of those luminous-in-the-dirt kind of stories. A few times while reading it I flashed back to the days when I was wrestling with Allende and Mieville (not a time I've ever wanted to revisit.) The primary setting, a turn-of-the-century freak show, is portrayed rather rosily for the time period -- but then, a lot of elements in the story were. I liked the characters, though, especially some of those who were incidental or had very minor roles. There's a fascinating criminal-turned-liveryman, and a wolf-taming hermit, both of whom steal every scene they're in; I think they're the reason the main characters come off rather trite by comparison. Still, it was a book I'm glad I read; it illustrates why it is important to think carefully about how you balance your cast, and why you should consider limiting how much you try to romanticize wretched situations.

Time to gather my belongings and brave the highway merge lanes. I'll check in with you all again when I have the chance.

Brain Changers

According to this article by Julia Ryan, reading fiction does great things for your brain. fMRIs performed on the participants after they read some of Pompeii by Robert Harris (excellent book, btw) revealed:

. . . heightened connectivity in the left temporal cortex, the area of the brain associated with receptivity for language. Heightened connectivity in other parts of the brain suggested that readers may experience “embodied semantics,” a process in which brain connectivity during a thought-about action mirrors the connectivity that occurs during the actual action. For example, thinking about swimming can trigger the some of the same neural connections as physical swimming.

I'm interpreting this to be similar to the sensations one can have when thinking of biting into a popsicle (I feel phantom cold shivers, for example.) We storytellers often talk about engaging the reader, and this study offers interesting scientific proof of that. It also suggests why some books don't work for readers -- possibly because those connections between story and mind weren't made.

What do you think about the potential effects of fiction on the brain? Do you think reading has changed your brain? Tell us in comments.

(Article link swiped from Gerard over at The Presurfer)

The Never-Read Library

This morning a friend asked me to describe my professional methodology in ten words or less. At first I did it in seven: Pitch, sell, write, edit, polish, submit, publish. Then I had to fiddle with it and rounded it out to ten: Create, pitch, sell, write, edit, polish, submit, revise, promote, publish. I would have liked to pen something more lyrical than a string of ten verbs that sound like the instructions on a shampoo bottle, but to me the path to publication is not an especially poetic experience. Being a professional writer is a job. You do these things -- you do the work -- or you don't publish.

I felt almost a hundred percent happy with my response, and my friend liked it a lot, too, but something was still missing. I figured out what last night while Mom was watching Jeopardy, her favorite game show. I sat down to keep her company and play Fourth Contestant to amuse her. As long as there are no sports categories I can usually guess about 85% of the responses correct (and last night I went 100% correct for all the answers to both the Alcohol- and Hittite-related categories, which I'm pretty sure most writers would probably nail.)

Then came the Final Jeopardy question, the category for which was British Novels. As soon as the relatively simple clue about a Thomas Hardy book went up I knew the answer: Tess of D'Urbevilles. Everyone has read that book, I thought, so everyone would get it right.

No one got it right. One guy came up with Jude the Obscure, the lady answered Clearwater, and the champion didn't even bother to guess. As Mom nagged me for the thousandth time about trying out for Jeopardy (she's sure I'd be the show's all-time greatest contestant; I'm sure I'd get nothing but sports categories) I smirked a little. How could three grown adults not have read Thomas Hardy? I mean, Tess of D'Urbevilles may not be as widely read as A Tale of Two Cities or Jane Eyre or Cantebury Tales, but it is a classic. This trio were young but obviously college-educated; the lady was some kind of teacher. How do you go to college and not have dudes like Thomas Hardy pounded into your skull?

In one sense I could understand their ignorance. I never cared for most classic literature, and I've gone to a great deal of trouble to avoid reading some of it. Not all; Shakespeare and Chaucer were decent, and aside from The Grapes of Wrath, which I still wish I could burn from my brain, Steinbeck was okay. Conrad and Chekhov were ghastly, though. Faulkner puzzled me as much as Melville repelled me, but I plowed through them. Attempting James Joyce is like trying to read when you're seriously inebriated, but I do try once a year, and he's actually helped with understanding Faulkner. I developed an infantile fascination with Poe in high school that I eventually outgrew, but I still have some moments when I ponder the psychic bruising Hawthorne inflicted. I loved Austen, loved Charlotte Bronte, and went wild for Wilde, and still read them all the time. So if I'd been on the show last night I would have wagered everything in the final round because I am well-read, and if I hadn't read the book in question I would have figured it out.

Which is exactly what happened last night, because while I got the right answer I've personally never read Tess of D'urbevilles. I did the exact same thing a few nights before with the Final Jeopardy clue about Classic Lit Novels. I guessed Anna Karenina as the correct answer even though I've never read the book (the reference of the train in the clue made me think of all the movie posters I've seen with Anna standing next to a train.)

My triumph didn't last long as I began to wonder just how many classics I've been consciously avoiding reading, and why, so I wrote up a list of the first that came to mind:

Anna Karenina -- Russian literature seemed so depressing that after the compulsory Chekhov-Cherry-Orchard assignment in school that I dodged as much of it as I could.

David Copperfield -- They made me read A Tale of Two Cities in the ninth grade and that was enough Dickens to last me forever. AToTC is also the only book by Dickens I've ever read, so add the remainder of his backlist.

Gone with the Wind -- Grandma loved it, Mom loved it, I haven't even watched the movie. I still don't think anything about the Civil War is even remotely entertaining.

Moby Dick -- they forced us to read Billy Budd in school; I think that was the tenth grade. That was such a revolting experience that when it came time to read the whale book I decided getting an F was better. One of my fondest memories of school, in fact, is remembering the look on that teacher's face when I turned in my book report, which consisted of four words: I didn't read it.

War and Peace -- Too long, lousy title, and again the mental scars left by Chekhov.

Wuthering Heights -- Too many girls in school worshipped this book for me to do anything but run from it as fast as I could. Until the cat cartoon came out I always thought Heathcliff was a stupid name, too.

Aside from my natural aversion to Gone with the Wind and my reluctance to join the Wuthering Heights herd, I think school ruined me for classic lit. While I now appreciate that most teachers want to instill a love of reading in students, the majority of the books they demanded my generation read were too depressing, wordy, heavy, ponderous or simply boring. What kept me from hating all classic literature was the public library. There I discovered on my own Austen and Shakespeare, Bronte and Thoreau -- I read classics all the time. This was due to my method of browsing at the library, by starting at the A shelf in fiction and gradually reading my way to Z. If I came across a book that was too difficult to understand or that didn't engage me, I just put it back and went to the next author.

I also know that my mental blocks have kept me from discovering some great books. Case in point: Chekhov truly did ruin Russian literature for me; I wouldn't voluntarily read any Russian author until I picked up a book with a strange cover, didn't look at the author's name and was spellbound by the tale of what it's like to spend one day in a Soviet labor camp. That novel, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, remains the one book I think everyone in the world should read.

Which brings me back to the fact that I knew the answer to the Final Jeopardy question without having read Thomas Hardy's book. Over a lifetime I've acquired a mental Cliff-notes type library of knowledge about books that I've never read, basically so that I never have to read them. My Never-Read classics library is pretty good, too; I've had long conversations about Gone with the Wind with unsuspecting folks who remained unaware that I've never once read the book or watched the movie.

Feeling superior to three Jeopardy contestants who had no knowledge of Thomas Hardy when I'm really no different from them makes me feel like a cheat and a bit of a hypocrite. The reason for that? Goes back to the one word that I left out of my professional methodoloy, the eleventh word that I believe is absolutely vital to any writer's process: READ. Read anything and everything. There is no cheat code for reading, either. You have to get a book and sit down and read it.

So today I am ordering a copy of Tess of D'Urbevilles. Yes, I'm going to read the damn thing. Cover to cover if possible, or as much as I can stomach. Then I think once a month (or as often as I can stand) I'm going to try reading all the other classic lit I've been avoiding since school. I'm not expecting any life-changing experiences, and it's likely that I won't finish a lot of them, but I will give them a try. Maybe that will help me empty the shelves of my Never-Read classics library and someday shut the place down for good.

So now it's your turn: what's on the shelves of your Never-Read library, and why? Have you ever considered overriding your natural inclinations to read any of those titles? Let us know in comments.

Later Reading

Last week petite mentioned Bill Bryson last week as an author who makes his readers happy, and I have to chime in on that. I've been a diehard Bryson groupie since the first time I read A Sunburned Country, and I will buy anything the man cares to publish the minute I see it on the shelves. Doesn't matter what it is; if I saw "Bryson's Weekly Grocery List" I'd grab that, too.

I don't read Bill's books right away, however. Most of the time I put them in clear view of my desk and use them as writing carrots (i.e. when I finish a manuscript, I get to read one of them as a reward.) Others I reserve for reading during long trips away from home, or hold onto until I have a bad case of the blues; the old "save it for a rainy day" approach.

In this era of get-it-with-one-click the practice of deliberately saving books for later reading seems to have dwindled to the point of vanishing altogether. While I appreciate the technology that allows us to get most any book we want the moment we want it, I think it's changing a lot of what used to be gleeful anticipation into surly impatience.

I'm guilty of this myself; for about a year I've been waiting/hoping to read an e-book by a favorite author who went indie; I've been checking Smashwords monthly to see if it's released there in .pdf (which I had planned to print out at home, as has been my habit with every indie author e-book I want to read.) For the last twelve months I've been willing to wait, but since my family stuck me with this e-reader and I don't have to wait for a printer-friendly edition anymore I've noticed I've been getting grumpier -- and more impatient -- by the week. It's out in Kindle format, so why doesn't the author release it for Nook? Why do I still have to wait? Maybe I should complain . . .

Before the era of instant delivery I never minded -- or even noticed -- the time it took to acquire books I wanted to read. When I was younger and much poorer I had to sign up on a waiting list at the library, and when the call came that my book was available I was thrilled. If I couldn't find a novel by someone I loved, I used the time as a chance to discover new authors. I used to spend years hunting through used book stores for OOPs editions while slowly acquiring an author's entire backlist. It was a bit like treasure hunting, and I absolutely loved it, especially whenever I found the very last book I needed to complete a collection. So were my trips to the brick-and-mortars, when browsing for titles was always punctuated by the delights of finding new releases I didn't know were coming out.

Saving books I buy for later reading may be the only way to get back a little of that lovely feeling of anticipation, so I've started a Rainy Day Reads shelf in my book room. Marjorie Liu just published Where the Heart Lives, a short story on Smashwords that I've never read; that along with Bryson's At Home are the first two additions.

What books or authors would you put on your Later Reading shelf? Tell us in comments to this post (or if you can't think of any, just toss your name in the hat) by midnight EST on Saturday, September 22, 2012. I'll draw one name at random from everyone who participates and send the winner a signed manuscript copy of Nightbred, my upcoming December release (bound by me in a ring binder, and whether the winner reads it right away or saves it for a rainy day is his/her choice) This giveaway is open to everyone on the planet, even if you've won something here at PBW in the past.

Reading Speed

Do you know at what rate you read? Take this quick reading test over at Staples and find out.

My results:



The passage I was given to read was unfamiliar, but I answered the comprehension questions 100% correct, so I'll call that fairly accurate. How did you guys do? Let us know in comments.

(Reading test link swiped from Gerard over at The Presurfer)

Books You Read When

Sorry I'm late posting today. Last night I was baking cookies for band camp and a new recipe for shortbread decided to give me some grief. Fortunately it all worked out, and now the kids will have some homemade snacks to balance out all the store-bought stuff they usually munch on.

I don't often read when I cook (I like not burning dinner) but baking usually requires some significant wait time in between tasks, so I started Barbara O'Neal's How to Bake a Perfect Life. It's a strong, very emotional story interspersed with lots of interesting recipes, and reading it while I was baking created the perfect atmosphere. With the cookies in the oven my kitchen became a warm, cozy perfumery of vanilla and brown sugar and chocolate, and made me feel as if I were in the book, working alongside Ramona, the baker protagonist.

It also made me realize how often I choose a book to suit what I'm doing. Barbara O'Neal is great to read while working on an extended cooking project, as is Peter Mayle, Poppy Brite or Anthony Bourdain. When I'm sewing I take a break with a quilt book or an art magazine, but I also read historical romance by Mary Balogh or Liz Carlyle, I suppose because sewing and needlework are my strongest personal connection with the past. When I'm cleaning house, for example, I always take a break with an urban fantasy, a strong contemporary or paranormal romance, most often by Patricia Briggs, Larissa Ione or Marjorie Liu. I think while I'm vanquishing dirt, dust and dog hair I feel more in tune with someone doing the same with evil demons (not to be read while cooking however; as I learned the last time Stephanie Tyler made me burn dinner.)

My moods sometimes dictate what I take off the TBR pile to read, too. If I'm happy and things are going well I like to read nonfiction or a how-to because I'm open and more inclined to learn something new. Whenever I get the blues, however, only poetry appeals to me; probably because it's always been my reading security blanket (for comfort, e.e. cummings, Keats or Rilke are most frequently my go-to guys.) I read most any type of fiction to relax at night after a long day at the keyboard, but when I'm particularly frustrated or I've had a bad day I always gravitate toward dark fiction with attitude, like one of Rob Thurman's Cal Leandros novels.

Do you choose what you read based on what you're doing? Do you have any perfect reads for certain situations or moods? Let us know in comments.

Sanctuary Reads

I've finally set aside the critically-acclaimed clunker from the remainder bin. While I haven't yet decided what to do with it (I've entertained various destructive fantasies which include but are not limited to burning, shredding, and strapping it to the business end of a Titan IV rocket) I am in great need of a sanctuary read.

I have a shelf of these in the book room, a special collection of poetry and novels that always restore my faith in the work. They're not just keepers and re-readers, they're healers; books that actively repair the damage done by exposure to the truly awful. e.e. cummings has bandaged the spiritual wounds inflicted on me by horrible reads more times than I can count; so have novels by Mary Balogh, Patricia Briggs, Virginia Coffman, Mark Kurlansky, Rosina Lippi, Catherine Nicholson and Nathaniel Philbrick, to name a few.

Mostly I run to them (okay, hobble) when I need to clear my head and remind myself that craft is more important than hype, not all the great storytellers are deceased, and there is always another sanctuary book out there, just waiting to be discovered. To remember that sometimes one must wade through a great deal of manure to find a rose.

Sanctuary reads have another important function, in that they offer a professional challenge. Every one of them murmurs You can do better to me the writer, and that keeps me from stagnating. After you've published enough novels and/or enjoyed a certain amount of success, it's easy to fall into the career complacency trap and believe you have nothing more to learn, and no need to improve. Instead of raising the bar for yourself, you weld it in place -- and that is probably the cause of innumerable clunkers.

Do you have a book that serves as a sanctuary read? In comments to this post, tell us the title and/or the author (or if you're still looking for one, just toss your name in the hat) by midnight EST on Friday, November 19, 2010. I'll draw one name at random from everyone who participates and grant the winner a BookWish*. This giveaway is open to everyone on the planet, even if you've won something here at PBW in the past.

*A BookWish is any book of your choice that is available to order from an online bookseller, with a maximum cost of $30.00 U.S. (I'll throw in whatever shipping costs are involved.)

Overcoming Reading Reluctance

I need to stretch my reading horizons every few years or I find I start gravitating back toward reading only those books by a few favorite authors and nonfiction for research purposes. This happens because over time I think I acquire a certain amount of reading reluctance, and don't give new or new-to-me authors a fair chance.

Reading reluctance is more than burnout or a rut; it's a bit like giving yourself an allergy. If I read enough books in the same genre that for whatever reason I don't enjoy, I start having a knee-jerk negative reaction every time I see a new release in that same category. It doesn't even have to be in the same genre; if I read enough badly-written dragon fantasies -- and I have -- even a glimpse of a dragon on someone's cover art can make my skin crawl.

I put together a list of some genres I'm currently not reading and thought about why I'm not reading them, and what I think it would take to bring me back:

Apocalyptic or Dystopian Fantasy: However misplaced it might be, I still have faith in humanity, so I've never been a huge fan of this genre anyway. It can be very depressing stuff.

What I would read: Anne McCaffrey-esque books where everyone escapes the apocalypse, finds another place or time, starts over and doesn't screw up that world.

Chicklit Romances: The humor often seems mean-spirited, and the fashion references are completely wasted on yours truly. Also not a fan of those highly idealized girlfriends forever books, in which two or more female characters seem to fall in love with each other while the male characters serve as your basic brainless, bulgy wallpaper cutouts or brainless, bulgy walking vibrators. Inspirational chicklit can and has made me physically ill.

What I would read: Anything that ditches the gushing BFFs, the over-the-top fashion, the insulting goofball comedy, and wretchedly-disguised bigotry, and replaces them with honest humor, real male characters, genuine feminine wit and above all, respect for the peaceful and faithful no matter what name they call their deity.

Historical Romances: After a long sabbatical I came back to this one and did a bit of reading around, but I was disappointed yet again, and my burnout reburned out itself.

What I would read: Because the usual time periods and characters have all been knocked off ad infinitum, I'd like to see some historical romances set in radically different eras, on continents other than Europe and North America, and with a variety of cultures and storylines. I'd definitely spend major bucks on any ancient world romances that hit the shelves.

Mashups: Not crazy about someone dumping zombies, sea monsters and vampire slayers in classic lit and slapping their byline on it (picky, I know, but I'm the same way about chopped peanuts on hot fudge sundaes.)

What I would read: Clever twists on classic lit in which the author does not copy and paste a single word from the original novel.

Memoirs: The last memoir I read was back in 2002, and there simply aren't words to describe that book that would keep this blog PG-rated. It had one positive effect; it made me instantly take a lifelong vow never to write a memoir.

What I would read: The diaries, journals and letters written by ordinary people who have/had interesting jobs and/or lived in interesting times.

Political Nonfiction: My grandmother made me read all the Watergate books, which she felt were important and I felt were a horrible punishment (in my defense, I was twelve. I wanted to read Laura Ingalls Wilder, not Bernstein and Woodward.) Have not touched a book on politics since.

What I would read: Nothing I can even imagine here. If I were given a choice between reading PN and having a colonoscopy without the fentanyl, I'd start undressing.

Science Fiction: As much as I've tried to like having all that endless pseudo-Platonism, rabid socialism and heartless nihilism shoved in my face, it just gives me a headache or puts me to sleep. The few SF authors I enjoyed reading when I was a kid are deceased now, and I've read everything they wrote a couple times over.

What I would read: Anything fun, adventurous, imaginative and not boring written by someone with a sense of humor. Or Edmund Cooper and A.M. Lightner, should they ever reincarnate.

Unauthorized Celebrity Bios: Celeb books don't do much for me, and most of the time they're as tasteless as they are badly-written. After all the support Oprah has provided for authors and the Publishing industry, for example, this latest bio about her getting all the hoopla seems ungracious as hell.

What I would read: I'd like to give the gossip and scandal sniffing a complete pass and read more factual accounts of the lives of people who have made a huge difference on the plus side for humanity, especially in medicine, like Avicenna, Edward Jenner, William Harvey, Joseph Lister, Charles Drew, Janet Lane-Claypon, Jonas Salk (and that list just goes on and on.)

Women's Fiction: Alas, not enough Kleenex in the bathroom or aspirin and tranquilizers in the medicine cabinet to cope with all that drama. That and if I really want to feel instantly bad I'll call the family member who always updates me on whose marriage is in trouble, who is unemployed, who has a home being foreclosed on and who might have an inoperable brain tumor.

What I would read: It's hard to be specific because this genre has the potential to be so much more than the aisle of endless sobfests. I don't mind books with downs as long as there are some ups thrown in for balance. A storyline that doesn't use tragedy as a crutch or an ending. Less soap opera, more realism.

YA: I'm winding down on a determined effort to read more in this genre, and mostly coming away with delightful memories of all the reasons I wanted to kill myself during my high school years.

What I would read: I like history, and I know I'd like to see it through the eyes of a youngster. Haven't found any decent historical YA yet, but I think the right author will eventually grab me.

What books are you reluctant to read, and why, and what would it take to get you to read them? Let us know in comments.

Green Eggs & Sam

Like most parents who read to their kids, I can (still) recite from memory most of the popular Dr. Seuss books. Go Dog Go was my daughter's favorite; Green Eggs & Ham was my son's (mine is Put Me in the Zoo, which I still think is the best of Seuss.)

When I was little the only things I can remember the adults in my house reading were the Bible, the Sunday newspaper and Life magazine (I was not allowed to touch any of them, but occasionally I'd filch Life to look at the pictures.) I was also not a Dr. Seuss kid; my mother and grandmother were not bedtime story readers. We were encouraged to read, but it was more along the lines of "read so you'll do well in school" versus "read because it will enrich your life."

The first book I owned was one I bought myself for the then-exorbitant sum of ninety-five cents from a Scholastic book flier my teacher handed out. I paid for it by borrowing the money from my grandmother and then paying her back a nickel at a time by doing extra chores after school. I washed a small mountain of dishes and folded a couple dozen baskets of clothes for that book, which I still own, btw. I'm also not too old or proud to admit that every couple of years I take that book out and read it -- and still love every word.

I bought a few more chores-for books, and hoarded what I acquired like the treasures they were to me. By the time I was in middle school I owned maybe twenty, the majority from church rummage sales and birthday gifts from a book-loving aunt, all stashed away in my bottom bureau drawer under my pjs. I dreamed of the day I could have a room in my house filled with nothing but books where I could go and shut the door and read (that took another thirty years to acquire.)

I can't offer you any hard statistics on how the books I read and loved in childhood helped me as an adult. I make my living writing books, but of course that might just be a coincidence. Reading a biography about Abraham Lincoln and how he educated himself also probably had nothing to do with me teaching myself to write stories. Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird and A.M. Lightner's Day of the Drones likely had no influence on me during desegregation, when I ignored all the racist adults shrieking at each other and made my first African-American friends.

It's true that there are a lot of books littering my past, but really, all those Cherry Ames novels I read as a kid don't have to be why I went into the medical field. Some could argue that A Wrinkle in Time and Sea Horse in the Sky are not the reason I later wrote all these SF books, and that The Long Winter didn't necessarily inspire my Dream Mountain or Rebel Ice.

No, now that I think about it, it was probably cartoons, or pinball games, or random jolts of creative inspiration beamed into my kid brain from the cosmos at large. How could mere books change any kid's life?

Seriously now, with all the very cool gadgets and gizmos out there that children want, and working parents who are exhausted by the time they get home from the day job, books are not high on anyone's priority list. I understand. I know it's also a lot easier to sit a kid in front of a TV screen than curl up with them and spend a half-hour with Sam I am as he convinces his stubborn pal to try those green eggs.

But I believe reading exercises the mind, inspires the soul, and encourages kids not only to see someone else's dream worlds, but to actively use their own imaginations when engaging the real world around them. Given the state of our species and the planet, I think we need all the imaginative, creative future adults we can nurture. And they need green eggs & Sam.

Time to Read

The one complaint I hear most often from people who love books is that they never have enough time to read anymore. They blame the demands of day jobs, family and household chores as the cause, and since these are all time-consuming parts of life I don't disagree with them. What I think eats into reading time are other, less noticeable preoccupations along with some old bookish habits that no longer fit with most people's lifestyle.

Jobs, family and home have to come first; at least they do with me. Besides, if I neglect them, there is no relief writer/mom/housewife to step up and keep things running smoothly; I just end up with a pile of work waiting for me whenever I try to get back into my routine. This is why I think if you want more reading time, you have to make sure you're keeping up with the primary responsibilities in your life.

Unless I'm sick, I work every day of the week, and I divide my time so that I use it efficiently. You've all heard me say how I write in the mornings (when it's generally quiet and everyone is at work or school) and edit in the evenings when everyone is settling down for the night. I'm always on call for the family, but by devoting my afternoons to them and my household chores, I usually keep up with work, family and home on a daily basis.

I used to love to sit down and read in the evenings for hours, and occasionally I still give myself a night off now and then to do that. But I've changed my reading habits over the years to accommodate the demands on my time, and now I read most books in short sprints throughout the day. That means when I have breakfast, I have a book at the table. Same with lunch. When I take my work breaks (at least ten minutes every two hours) I leave my writing space and sit outside on the porch with a book. I also keep whatever book I'm reading with me; taking it along when I run errands, make school pick ups or go to doctor appts.

I'm forever looking for opportunities to read, such as while I'm on hold on the telephone, when I'm standing in line at the grocery store or post office, when I'm sitting in a waiting room or a parking lot, or any time or place when I can't do anything but wait. If I soak in the tub at night, I've got a book with me; if I can't sleep I get up and read until I feel drowsy.

I also sacrifice a lot of things for my book habit. Aside from avoiding watching television, I limit the time I spend on the internet. Unless there's some work- or friend-related crisis I don't spend more than an hour a day online. That hour I break up into six ten-minute intervals by using a kitchen timer. This also forces me to be more productive when I am online, because I know when that bell rings I have to log off and get back to work.

No one likes to sacrifice something they enjoy doing, but I'll bet there are plenty of things you do out of habit that don't add to the quality of your life. For example, I used to watch the evening news every night so I could keep up with world events. Eventually I got to the point where I just could not abide one more minute of the squabbling and sensationalism, and stopped cold turkey. Same with newspapers; I gave up my subscription after the content became more aggravating than informative. My primary source of news is now the internet, and I've become very selective about what I read even on it. As a result I'm a much calmer person, and I've gained at least an hour more each day to read books.

I've started listening to more audio books, which allow me to knock out an extra four to six books per month. I keep at least one book on CD in the car to listen to while I'm driving (much more fun than all those commercial-glutted radio stations) and I'll often listen to an audio book on my headphones when I do chores, sew or cook. I did try listening to an audio book when I went to bed, thinking it would help me go to sleep, but it had the reverse effect, so I quit that (your mileage may vary.)

I also think about what I'm going to read for the day, and choose my books accordingly. About half of the reading I do is for work, self-education or market research, which for me is a different kind of reading; more like intensive skimming versus losing myself in a story. These books are good to read during my work breaks because I know I can set the aside without a qualm. Ficition, particularly by authors I usually can't stop reading, I save for other times when I can devote an uninterrupted hour or two to them.

A print book is certainly a very low-tech form of entertainment, but I'm quite happy that I don't have to plug it in, boot it up, fiddle with settings or miss part of it when I'm needed elsewhere. A book is forever patient, and waits until I have time for it, not the other way around. It does not demand I make time for it once a week, or to be recorded when I'm too busy, or require new batteries every other day. If I want to pick it up, it's always ready to tell me the story. On bad days a book is like my dog; it's always waiting and ready to make me happy (and unlike the pup, it doesn't chew the laces on my sneakers to pieces.)

Of course you don't have to live the life of a total book worm like me to make more time to read. Look at what you do every day and resolve to give up one thing: a television program, chatting on the phone, Twittering, or something else you do that is not an essential activity. Even if you go to bed a half-hour earlier to read a little before you go to sleep, that will give you three and a half more hours to read every week. If you bring your lunch to work, tuck a book in your bag to read while you eat, and there's another two and a half hours of extra reading time. If you're bored to death with your favorite weekly TV program, skip it and read instead for an hour.

By making just those three small changes in your routine, you can give yourself seven more hours of reading time per week. For most people, that's two books. Keep it up for a year, and you will probably read at least 100 books you didn't think you had time for.

What do you guys do to make more time on your busy schedule for books? Let us know in comments.

3 Books

This year I considered adding one of those "What I'm reading" sidebar elements to the blog, because I like to see what other writers are reading and I often don't get a chance to write as many recs as I'd like. The main problem is that I go through between fifty and seventy books a month, so all I'd be doing is changing it.

As a compromise I'll be writing a post now and then about three books from my TBR: what I've just finished, what I'm currently reading, and what's next.

Just Read: A Matter of Class by Mary Balogh, hardcover

Why I picked it up: Mary Balogh is one of two historical romance authors I still read, and is the sort of writer who could publish her grocery list and I'd happily buy it.

What I liked: This little jewel is a new spin on what she does best (classic Regency romance), wonderfully structured with great characters. The twist is such that I saw it coming but still found charming anyway; builds to an excellent conclusion.

What I didn't like: The book jacket, which is mainly evil yellow, but I took care of that by removing it.

Reading: Inked anthology featuring Marjorie M. Liu, paperback

Why I picked it up: I needed a Hunter Kiss fix, thank you, Marjorie.

What I like: Marjorie writes short stories as well as she does novels, and so far Armor of Roses is terrific (I'm reading first because I'm a brat that way, and I'm not rushing because I don't want it to end.)

What I don't like: I'm not crazy about anthos for the same reasons I won't ever again write for one: no choice over which authors are included, the quality of the writing is often a mixed bag, and sometimes the editing is just all over the place. That said, I'm pretty sure I haven't read anything by the other three authors in this one, so this is a good opportunity for me to test-drive them.

Will Read: The Daily Reader by Fred White, trade paperback

Why I picked this up: Fred White is the author of guided writing exercise how-to The Daily Writer, which despite all the literary content I liked and found quite useful.

What I expect to like: He manages to talk about writing from a literary perspective without insulting me the genre writer in the process, which I rarely find and greatly appreciate. Although this looks like another great big pile o' lit, I'm hopeful for a repeat experience.

What I expect not to like: I already dislike the cover (why so many evil yellow covers out there this month? I'm about to break out in hives.) And I haven't looked but I'm almost positive there's going to be a reference to Chekhov (Anton, not the Star Trek dude) and then I'll remember being forced to read and analyze The Cherry Orchard in ninth grade and have those inappropriate fantasies about punching out my English teacher again. Do we ever get over the damage done to us in high school? I wonder . . .

Readability

How readable is your text? This online tool will generate a series of scores, along with a sentence count, word count, syllable count and an average of how many words you used per sentence.

If you want to make a quick check of how some text sounds when read out loud, stop over at AT&T Labs Natural Voices® Text-to-Speech Demo page, cut and paste your test into the box, and click on speak. There is a 300 character limit, but there are a variety of voices, and it's a decent online tool to test a line of dialogue.

If readability is an ongoing concern, you might check out the free 15-day trial of Readability Analyser for Windows XP and Vista (also included in the free trial download of EssayBuilder.)

Patrick Burt has some good suggestions on how to make your online text more readable in his post How To Optimize Your Body Text For Readability.

WebDesignFromScratch.com has a page on Readability - making web pages easy to read that gives great tips plus visually demonstrates why you shouldn't do or use certain things on your web page or blog.