There's something about the summer that attracts me to reading. It's more like an addiction, really. From about June to September, I can't make it through the day without reading at least part of a book.
This summer is no different. I am currently on my sixth book in a month and have a few more waiting on my reading list. Greg asked me the other day why I enjoy it so much. There are may reasons.
It's an escape. Especially right before bed. I love to read a chapter or two before falling asleep. Whether it's a good day or bad day, taking a few minutes to enter someone else's world helps me forget about my own. When I'm done, when I'm ready to sleep I can just shut the book and my mind is clear. I can fall asleep in minutes with no worries.
It's an accomplishment. A small one, yes, but still an achievement. There's a unique satisfaction when you finish a book, get to the end of a story. In real life, there are too many unanswered questions. Too many doors left open. Not in a book. Once it's done, that's the end.
I don't know what it is about the summer months that makes that so much more attractive. For the ten or so books I'll read in two months, I'll maybe read half that many for the rest of the year, but rest assured when the weather warms up again, the reading rush will start again.
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