Unlike many I know I am not a solid reader, that is, at any given time I may not be reading a book. My intake of books is more like binge reading – I get caught on an author, or a theme, or a style and then I devour books until I am fully sated.
It can be a series, like John Marsden’s Tomorrow when the war began (10 books in all), or Stieg Larrson’s Millennium series. Or it can be fiction focused on the fight for civil rights in the USA in the 1950s and 1960s. Or it can be historical fiction, tracing the monarchs of England.
The urge to read can be triggered by a number of different sources – a good movie, a recommendation from a trusted referee, happening across the book while shopping. Whatever the origin, it can trigger indulgent behaviour where sleep, eating and interacting with others fall to the wayside while I read. I have become more socially acceptable with my reading over the years, as I know it is not appropriate to avoid family and work in favour of words. However, I am still known to occasionally miss my train stop whilst deep into a good book.
At the moment I am devouring the Phyrne Fisher murder mysteries by Kerry Greenwood. I have always meant to read these, but it has been the wonderful ABC series that finally got me into action. They are light, witty and contain enough of an adventurous twist that they hold the attention, and the Melbourne based travels hold such delights.
I will eventually tire of these. This usually means that I will seek some other interest, craft wise or other. But certainly not reading. I binge perhaps once or twice a year, and the binge can last anywhere from a month or about 3. But when the binge is finished, books hold little interest… Till the next urge hits.