Happy Monday! It’s the start of a brand new week. It’s going to be a great week, beginning with the solar eclipse today and moving right on through to the end of the week.
On Upbeat Authors, our challenge this week is to think about something we enjoyed doing as a child that we commit to doing again at least once. I’ve been thinking abot this topic all week, trying to figure out what I would choose.
There are a lot of things I enjoyed doing as a child, but not many I can commit to doing again now that I’m…well…let’s just say I’m an experienced adult. My knees, injured many years ago and getting worse all the time, prohibit a lot of the activities I enjoyed as a child, like playing Swing Base with my sister (I talked about the game here) or indulging in a rousing game of Purple People Eater ( which I blogged about here) with my cousins., but let’s get realistic. I’m not jumping off a flying swing or crouching down inside an old coal shed anytime soon.
I used to love playing in the sandbox my dad made for us kids, but I live in Florida about a five-minute walk from the beach. I “play” in sand every day. I used to ride bikes with my sister all the time, A few years ago, I thought it might be run to start riding again, so I bought a bike with the intention of resuming my childhood pastime, But…Florida. Heat. Humidity. I’ve mentioned the problem before.
I could drag my Barbie doll out from under the bed and play with her, but somehow that isn’t as appealing as it might be. I could roller-skate…but, well, no.
Do you know what I really want to do? I want to read some of the books I read when I was a girl–the ones that made me want to write books in the first place, like Mistress of Mellyn or The India Fan by Victoria Holt or a few Nancy Drew books like The Mystery at Lilac Inn or Password to Larkspur Lane. To this day, if I see a book with either “Lilac” or “Larkspur” in the title, I want to own it. Just thinking about those books makes me feel a little giddy.
I know it might seem like a bit of a cheat, but reading for pleasure is something I haven’t been able to do a whole lot in recent years. By the time I write and read my own books, read books to offer cover blurbs for other authors, read manuscripts to critique for critique partners and other writers who use my editing services, read what’s on tap next for book club and a few books within my chosen genres to keep up with the industry–not to mention all the books and manuscripts I read during contest season–there’s not a lot of reading time left in the week.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I enjoy reading all of those things or I’d stop doing it. Nobody’s forcing me. I’m not reading under protest. It’s just all very adult and responsible, and I feel a bit sad at times when I feel the longing to read a certain type of book or to re-read an old favorite, and I know there’s no tme to fit it in.
So that’s what I choose. I commit to read a book just for fun and to read it like a reader, not like a writer. Just read for the pure love of story. Ah…sounds like bliss to me.
What about you? What’s one thing you did as a child you haven’t done recently? Any chance you’ll commit to doing it at least once?