My mother can read a book and you'd never know she's touched it. I, however, make a book look a hundred years' old with one reading. We left for my mom's after a party and so I forgot my Kindle, my laptop and all nature of books, so I had to read one of my mother's. I really thought I'd make a concerted effort with this one because it was in pristine condition. Well, the kids splashed me at the pool, I left it open without a bookmark...let's just say, it's a mess already.
Luckily, my mother didn't care for the book and had already read it. I would never know that because it was in perfect condition. Then, to add insult to injury, she says to me this morning, "You didn't get very far in that book."
"I'm a slow reader. This author has so many great thoughts. It takes me a long time."
"Meh," she says. "I like story. It didn't move quickly enough for me."
Sigh. So not only am I like Pigpen with a book, I'm slow too. My self-esteem is suffering. (Not really) We're going to get a pedicure this morning, so I'll read some more there. Let's see if I can not throw it into the foot spa while I'm there.
This is what I'm reading. "Tell the Wolves I'm Home" by Carol Rifka Brunt. A debut novel -- okay THAT damages my self-esteem. Her writing is very descriptive and she has some great thoughts. Like this one:
"Believe what you want," she said, turning away and heading for the stairs.
But that was impossible and Greta knew it. You could try to believe what you wanted, but it never worked. Your brain and your heart decided what you were going to believe and that was that. Whether you liked it or not."
Are you a slow reader? Or is that just me?