The Lost Art of Reading

DogReadingSomeone gave me a book and approximately one week later I returned it as they happenstance where at my place. They were surprised if not taken aback that I had finished so quickly. I did not hurry through the book, in fact I had other pending projects so the book did not get the best of my time; plus I had my latest edition of Writer’s Digest to read, one of my songs needed tweaking, and I still do yet but another pass on The Druid and the Flower as I await the beta readers.

I am not at all bragging. I really, really have no understanding of how much other people read. I am always reading something or other. My wife is the same, usually about horses, dogs, all forms of natural medicine and host of other attractions that keeps her printer at a constant clip.

Neither of us watch sports, maybe that’s a game changer when it comes to reading. (Pun intended.)

I also read selected blogs, especially those constructed by other authors promoting themselves and their work. I never knew Flash Fiction existed some months ago, but my editor is a very capable Flash fiction writer, and I have become hooked. I follow a select few political commentators—as exciting as watching golf; but it lets me know which way the wind is blowing—the golf I mean.

I love words. I think everyone gets off where they read a clever line from Winston Churchill, Mark Twain, the immortal words of Yogi Berra, or a myriad of other clever people. There is something in us that loves a good story. There is so much bountiful information, with easy access, to enlighten any mind with new insight or give simple pleasure of a new world or idea. I hope dearly reading has not become a lost art to all the other media that so tickle the senses.

Many things might pass as we enter this new age of world instant communication and contact. Some would argue that if it is worth holding onto it will survive. But then I think about the food I eat, where it comes from, and how it is produced and handled. How water comes to us in bottles, pricier than the gas we buy. You can no more drink from a fresh stream of water, or chew on the new fallen snow, than you would eat two week old road kill. Lots of good things have gone their way, the most recent our freedom to make it through a scanner with our shoes on, safety is always a concern. We can no longer let a ten or twelve year old child walk to school by themselves, definitely not to the park. All doors are locked, guns loaded and waiting in some place where most likely they will be useless, but provide a wonderful opportunity for a misguided household incident.

Oh ya, reading. The chances are slim to none.