Now, we all know that I am a bed reader at heart–thus the name of my blog–but these past few weeks, I have been using my bed more for snoozing than reading. But that has not deterred me from reading a good book. I am one of those rare unicorns who enjoys reading on all platforms: audiobooks, ebooks, and old school books. It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever gets someone reading is good enough. Even if you’ve listened to Pride and Prejudice, you still know the story. Jane Austen’s words can still resonate within you. Although I personally don’t like Pride and Prejudice, that’s my prerogative. And a completely different blog post.
**note to self, maybe dedicate an entire blog post to books I should love but actually hate with every fiber of my being.**
Commuting to work has given me a solid two hours every day dedicated to reading (or listening). I have read five books in the past month thanks to commuting. And I love it. Although nothing sucks more than being pinned against the door of the Jubilee line, it becomes more tolerable when I pull out my Kindle. And when I ride the train back home, something warm and fuzzy bubbles within me when I see there are more people reading a book than playing with their smartphone.
But there are some awkward moments that reading on the commute can create. Just last week, I finally finished Allegiant by Veronica Roth. I closed the book and just looked up at the woman sitting across from me and gave her the most horrifying look any stranger probably has ever received. I couldn’t believe it. Now, I am not going to throw any spoilers out there for anyone who hasn’t read it yet, but let’s just say shit goes down. And when that shit finally did, I was freaking out. On the tube. Surrounded by so many people, and yet completely alone. I wanted to find someone else who was reading it just so I can look at them and be like, “Can you believe this?” And they’d nod their head at me agreeing with, “I know, right? That shit cray!”
Another time, I was reading The Beginning of Everything (also known as Severed Heads, Broken Hearts in the UK) by Robyn Schneider and felt this tidal wave of emotions. Let’s get one thing straight, I don’t cry. I can give you the exact date of the last time I openly ugly cried in front of others. But at a few points I had to stop and put my Kindle down just to collect my thoughts. And after finishing it I was just… and I know a lot of people hate internet speak and Tumblr talk but this is the only way I can think of describing what I was feeling. And I had no one to commiserate with.
This is something that all readers go through. What I love about reading is that it is such a personal moment that happens in public spheres. Could you imagine riding the tube and looking across from you to see someone with a Kindle in their hands and a tear running down their face? You would be like, “What the fuck is that person reading?” And doing it in England, they would be all, “Guffaw! Crying in public? How preposterous!” Even more so, people’s reactions to books are just so amazing. How some people can love Gone with the Wind while others loathe it. It’s just as Edmund Wilson said: “No two persons ever read the same book.”
So now I am reading here and there, I am reading everywhere. I am reading on the train, I am reading in the rain. You can find me reading on the Central Line or even while sitting as I dine (my ode to Dr Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham). Dorkiness aside, this short post is just my way of pointing out that there is always time for a good book. Whether it’s listening to an audiobook, or reading on a small screen. It can be done.