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Hi, my name is Carol and I have a reading problem.
I can’t remember when I started reading. It seems like I’ve always had this habit, although there must have been pre-literature days in my past.
When it first started, it just seemed like a recreational thing.
The books were short and didn’t take much time – Frog And Toad Are Friends, Millions Of Cats, The Velveteen Rabbit, Mike Mulligan And His Steam Shovel – that kind of thing.
Then I started getting into harder stuff:
- Charlotte’s Web
- The Witches
- The Phantom Tollbooth
- A Wrinkle In Time
- Black Beauty
- White Fang
By the time I was 12 years old, the habit was worsening.
- Watership Down
- My Family And Other Animals
- If Only They Could Talk
- The Sword In The Stone
- Jurassic Park
- Beautiful Joe
- To Kill A Mockingbird
- Animal Farm
I knew that I read more than a lot of people I knew, but I didn’t think I was that unusual. I just happened to know a lot of non-readers.
It wasn’t until University that people began to broach the subject with me.
“Pride and Prejudice? What class is that for?”
“Um… it isn’t for class. I just like it.”
“You’re reading FOR FUN? Where do you find the time? I haven’t read for pleasure in months.”
Considering that this sort of conversation would take place IN CLASS, usually in the few minutes between the doors opening and the professor getting started, the question “where do you find the time?” seemed fairly self-explanatory.
I carried a book on me at all times. I read over meals. I read while walking to class. The occasional bumping-into-a-tree incident didn’t really seem to break the habit. I read between classes. I read in the greenroom between scenes of whatever play I was in. I read in the evenings, between writing papers. I read in the bath. Finally, I read in bed at night.
I should have known then that I had a problem. But, see, I knew that while I certainly read more than a lot of people I knew, it wasn’t a PROBLEM. It didn’t interfere with my life. I could function just fine.
Sure, my boyfriend at the time sometimes complained when he discovered that I hadn’t heard a word of his last 5 minute ramble because I was “listening to the people in my book”.
And yes, he sometimes complained that I spent too much time with my books and not enough watching TV with him. But I dismissed such complaints out of hand.
Our mutual love of reading brought PH and myself together. Originally just a fellow cast member in several plays, we went out for drinks a couple of times and found ourselves deep in discussions about whether or not Who Is Bugs Potter? was a better Gordon Korman than I Want To Go Home! or whether the world a fiction author creates constitutes the “truth”, and therefore, when a book such as Wide Sargasso Sea contradict the original book, whether they are “lying”.
But while PH is certainly a reader, I’m beginning to be aware that he doesn’t seem to have the same… difficulties with it that I do.
Reading really IS becoming a problem.
Just like in University days, I still read in every spare moment. I read over meals, unless PH is trying to engage me in conversation. I read in the bathroom. I read while running Owl’s bath. I read while nursing Owl to sleep at night. I read while Owl plays. When Owl wants me to play with him, I read to Owl. I read in bed.
Despite the fact that, word for word, PH is a much faster reader than I am, I blast through books at probably triple his speed. The books on my bedside table pile up in precarious towers, a visual tribute to my literary gluttony.
I’m beginning to realize that I don’t find time for reading in my life – I find time for life in my reading.
And I’m not doing that very well.
I think I use books as a way to hide from life. They are no longer recreational. They are like AIR.
At what point does it become a problem?
Should I really be spending so much time burying my head in the sand of a story?
How many hours of my day are eaten up by my ducking into my literary universe?
How much of the dirt in my house would be vanquished if I spent half as much time cleaning as I do reading?
How much exercise am I missing out on by curling up with a book instead of going for a walk? (Hell, when I was pregnant and spending all my time in the pool, I started reading IN THE POOL too)
Is it healthy that I consider the things I need to do in life – get up, walk the dog, CARE FOR MY CHILD, as mere interruptions?
Would I have been more alert, more rested, at my job if I hadn’t spent so many nights reading late?
I may also be passing my obsession down to the next generation
Sometimes I think that I should try to give up reading.
Think of the hours gained!
But I find the thought of going through life without books to hide in to be a frightening future.
Would I want such a barren life?
Besides, I NEED books. I really don’t sleep well without a book to read at night. I need to settle down in my warm bed with my blankets and something to drink and shed the detritus of my day by entering a book for a while.
Unfortunately, if it’s a new book and not one I’ve read a (figuratively) million times I also end up staying awake late into the night. So I need them to sleep, but they also rob me of sleep at times.
I could try to swear off books outside of bed time, but that seems like a plan that would backfire. If I knew that I wouldn’t get to open my book again for 24 hours, how much harder would it be to close the book and turn off the light?
My friend The Farm Fairy suggested getting a timer, but I have a feeling that I still lack the self control to stop myself when the timer dings. It’s hard to explain how out of control I feel when it comes to reading. I think that my inability to control my book habit is as bad or worse than my emotional eating problems.
At least I admit that I have a problem.
What I’m not sure about is how to deal with it.
Enabler #1
Enabler #2
If By Yes 
Reading hasn’t yet become a problem for me, or maybe I’m just in denial. I think that is one of the stages of addiction…
I know how it starts. You say things like “I just do it when I need to relax/when I’m alone/before bed”. The next thing you know you’re creating excuses to curl up with a book and missing out on other kinds of fun…
My name is Eleanor and I too have a reading problem. Actually, I just need to read to live. It’s an essential, like eating or drinking or breathing. The time people thought I was strangest for reading for fun was during my Masters’ year – I had to read 4-5 books and many theoretical articles every week…but I still always had fiction on the go!
It seems that your problem is more about sleeping than reading 🙂 I know how hard it is to put down an engrossing new book but sleep is really important too! Personally, I think that a timer would scare me and not let me sleep. As I see it, you have two options:
1. take advantage of the natural breaks…end of chapters, section breaks, etc. and determine that you can only read to the next natural break or so on. (and then follow through…the hardest part I know!)
2. Have going to sleep books. Save your new books for daytime hours and keep familiar favourites for bed. This one actually sounds more doable if you have difficulty putting down new books. That way you can reconnect with old friends and they’ll lull you off to sleep.
I’d also recommend carving out time without books – ie. make dinner time a time without books or tv (or at least one or two dinners a week.)
One of my favourite times to read are in the mornings: over breakfast, on the bus, etc. Actually, who am I kidding – I love to read any time 🙂
I think it’s good you have such enablers in Owl’s life 🙂 Reading means he’ll rarely be lonely or bored.
Yes, the follow through is definitely the hardest part… It’s so easy to say “just one more chapter…”
I’m a voracious reader, as is Hubs, and Harry is going the same way – he’s seldom without a book. However, during meals books are a STRICT no-no. That time is for talking with the family… being conscious of what we’re eating… and keeping up those connections with each other and our kids. That might be a good place to start.
I agree. Although most of my meals are either eaten alone/with Owl, who is not much of a conversationalist, so that makes it hard to stick to such principles.
Me thinks you doth protest too much. 🙂
I have protested for too long!
I think it’s easiest to declare certain times of the day off-limits. Like mealtime and another stretch for interaction, cleaning, exercise…say 2-4 or 10-12 or 5-7 or whatever. For me that would be easier than designating a reading time.
Hmm, yes…
I think this is what they call a First World problem.
Oh, it definitely is. We live in a society of excess. Humans weren’t meant to have access to everything they like. Overeating, overdrinking, overreading… these are all the results of our luxurious lifestyle.
So now we have support groups and online websites and books and personal trainers dedicated to helping us NOT drink, NOT eat, etc. When the rest of the world would love to get their hands on ENOUGH to eat or ENOUGH to read, here I am doing far too much of both!
I agree with Hannah and Eleanor’s sentiment about not reading during dinner. A good rule is if you wouldn’t do it while your mother is there, you shouldn’t do it while she’s not there. Somehow I think your mother would be upset if you were reading at the dinner table.
That said, that’s probably a first step to getting this under control. Reading is clearly a way that you escape real life, which is totally cool as long as real life gets attended to eventually. Make this your first step, and reward yourself for accomplishing it. Go from there.
I am so with you. i read a book a day all through high school–even earlier, actually. I was reading at an adult level by 5th grade. I read when i’m watching tv. I read at meals (when i’m not on the computer). I read while the baby plays. I read at chorus rehearsals when they’re going over someone else’s part. It’s never been much of a problem.
now, my mother on the other hand…has an addiction. to the LIBRARY. She often has 10 books at home and 10 on reserve and 6 that just came in today. And she never, ever catches up. I made her take a break for a month last summer just so she could read some of the new books we OWN! hehe.
My boyfriend is a non-reader. I’m hoping i can get over that…it’s kind of hard though, when he doesn’t understand at ALL how awesome it is to get lost in a book for hours and hours…
Reading is not a bad thing, but I agree with the commentators that perhaps start by not reading while eating. I used to do that when I lived at home, you know, come home after school and have a sandwich, I’d read something. But not while having dinner with other people present. Still don’t. Reading in the bath, in bed, or if hubby’s watching TV or something, I think is fine. I tend to plow through books rather quickly if I’m sitting on the toilet! And if you’re commuting, excellent time. I always brought a book to work, and sat in the breakout area and read. Nowadays, though, it’s more the computer … because yeah I might get some cleaning done if I shut it off, but on the other hand, if I didn’t, I’d either be reading or watching a film or something else … Either way you look at it, reading is a good thing, but if you think over-doing it so that it has a negative impact on your relationships with your husband and/or your child, then you probably need to take it down a notch.
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It’s a genetic disorder….
honestly, I have a woman in the family tree who used to hide a book in every room in the house, because back then the father disapproved of reading, and this way she could read a couple of lines between chores. Another one who used to read while cooking. And me…don’t ask. Just don’t. I once had to go three weeks without a book, because I was so busy, I barely got enough sleep. four hours tops every night. Four three weeks. So I wanted to use the opportunity to sleep, but before, I just wanted to “peek” into the book I was waiting to read the whole time.
Twelve hours later, after having been awake for more then 24 hours (far more) on top of all the sleep I missed in the weeks beforehand, I fell asleep a couple of sites before the end of the book. For 16 hours. because I was so damned exhausted.
There are only two solutions: One, never start a new book for bedtime, unless it is short enough that you know that you can read it in a reasonable time frame (I am a fast reader, thankfully). Just leave the thick books for long train travels and similar opportunities.
And two: buy an e-book reader. It doesn’t necessarily make you read less, but at least your space will be less cluttered, and it is easier to keep track of the last site you were on when you were interrupted.
Yes, both great suggestions. The Ereader has saved us a lot of space when traveling and I have also instituted the “no new books” rule for weekday evenings. Although sometimes I break the rule, and regret if.