With the summer months practically here (seriously, how is it June already? Slow down, 2015…), the Sweet Sixteens are blogging about a particularly timely topic: summer reading.
This got me thinking about a lot of things. All the fabulous books I want to be reading right this second. The massive TBR list I’m dying to catch up on. The chair on my deck, beckoning me to sit down with a glass of Riesling and my Kobo.
Beach reading: one of the ultimate reading locations.
But the very first thought that came to mind? Being a kid and having the whole summer off, and not even appreciating how awesome that was. I remember complaining to my parents, loudly and dramatically, that I was bored during those summers. Bored. There were only so many hours that could be spent playing outside, so many afternoons reading The Babysitter’s Club and hacking the hair off Barbies with my sister. So many days with nothing to do.
(It goes without saying that I also didn’t appreciate nap time back then. Because I had a lot to learn.)
As an adult, I relish any free time I get. There’s absolutely nothing more exciting for me than a whole day stretching ahead with no plans at all, nothing to do at all. It’s funny how things change— how what I now call the perfect day used to be a dime a dozen, ferociously underappreciated. What would summer reading look like for me, if I had back those endless summer days bereft of responsibilities that I didn’t value as a kid?
Summer reading would be both leisurely and fervent. It would involve starting and finishing a book in the same day. Maybe two books a day, since there wouldn’t be laundry to do or groceries to buy or meals to
burn cook. Summer reading would happen everywhere. On my deck, where a waiter would magically refill my champagne when my glass got empty. (Hey, it’s my fantasy here!) At the beach, where I’d be careful not to get SPF 60 all over the pages. In the passenger seat during road trips, because let’s face it, I’m a useless navigator anyway. In my bed, where I’d sleep until at least noon like I did when I was a teenager. In an inflatable pool chair, floating from the shallow end to the deep end and back again, my toes dangling in the water. (In this wishful summer, I of course have a pool.) In the park, on a blanket in the grass. On a boat while my husband fishes. Summer reading would swallow up my days and the word “boredom” would never be used.
But that’s not the summer I have to work with. In reality, summer reading fits in wherever it can. On my breaks at work. While a TV show plays in the background. At the library. In coffee shops, accompanied by lattes. In my office. While I’m quickly eating breakfast before work. With a little lamp-light, under the covers at night. (Maybe I have something in common with kid-me after all.) I’ll read everywhere and anywhere, in whatever time I have, because quite simply, there is no better summer vacation than the ones found within a book’s pages.
And just for fun, here are some of the (many) books I hope to read this summer:
The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins
More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera
In A World Just Right by Jen Brooks
Simon Vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli
The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things by Ann Aguirre
Learning Not to Drown by Anna Shinoda
Devoted by Jennifer Mathieu
Mania by J.R. Johansson
Black Iris by Leah Raeder
Love and Other Theories by Alexis Bass
How to Build a Girl by Caitlin Moran
Happy reading, everyone, whether it’s under the covers after dark, on a deck with champagne, or everywhere in between!