how to read

This is for those of you who know how to read words, but are struggling to read a book.  As in sit down with a book, and just read it.  With intention and focus and enjoyment.

A couple days ago the public library phoned me to tell me it was closing.  It was probably my most unregulated emotional moment so far, as our springtime of isolation has been revealing her depths.

I had an ugly little breakdown as I realized it would probably be months before I can borrow a book.  I put down the phone and I cry to the boy, 'The library has closed it's doors!  But what will I read?!'

The boy doesn't answer but pointedly casts his eyes around the room, taking in probably a thousand books or more, before returning to his (text heavy) video game.  It's all fine for him maybe, as somebody reads to him out loud everyday as part of his homeschool and before bed, and is a reluctant reader beyond that, but if I told him that Fortnite and Roblox were shut down and he'd have to just play the video games he only has for his Nintendo 64, he would lose his eleven year old mind.

I am a person who doesn't describe herself as someone who reads a lot, although I do.  Since I started tracking in 2013, I've jotted down more than nine hundred titles.  That's just the ones I remembered to record.

I do read a lot, but when I talk about reading, I speak of myself as Bookish.  Like an identity.  I don't just read books, I am books.  They are a part of my being, the same way my bones and flesh are.  (But not, like, literally.)

There are many fine arguments as to why people should read books.  Fiction and non-fiction, lengthy books, electronic or the more tactile form, the act of reading is generally agreed to be good.  A search of the Internet will throw up any number of elegant reasons, some of them even animated on YouTube.

There are arguments against reading as well, though many of them are located at earlier historical points.  Reading about why people believed in the past that reading was a terrible idea is one of, I think, the best arguments for why we should read as much as possible, all the time.

So, being Bookish, it may surprise you to learn that reading a book is, for me, a complex, sometimes difficult task.  I know there is a perception that bookish people just are. We just sit and read effortlessly, that it's a easy as slipping on ice, we just fall onto it. Except instead of cracking a tailbone, we lay upon our couches sipping hot beverages, all cozy and smug.

I think this image of literary escapism is one of the reasons so many people tell me they wish they could read more.  It seem warm and peaceful, an idyllic mental holiday.

Sorry, definitely not true for me.  That's just tea packaging propaganda.  Sure, there were times in my life when it was easy to read, practically a compulsion.  That's a common prepubescent vocation, I think, as our desire for life experience is far greater than any that the people around us are willing to let us explore without supervision.  But once out of the Sweet Valley High phase, well, things just don't go as smoothly.  

For me, reading is work. It is pleasant work, mostly, but a certain level of effort is required.  I have mentioned before that I also have ADHD.  I am easily distractible.  I have a hard time sitting still.  I have a difficult time remembering what I just read.  I spend hours every week searching for the book I just put down... somewhere.  And despite this, or because of this, I definitely want to read.

I am also a recent ADHD diagnosis, which means that I have had these forty some years to wonder why the hell I am the way I am and, more importantly, develop highly personal and effective strategies.  Reading is something that I have a structured approach to but is also integral to the management of my ADHD. You'll see what I mean below.

This is how I read:

1. A non-negotiable part of my daily routine involves reading.  I have built in reading times, including for half an hour or in the morning while I have coffee (actually, this is an active brain time for me where I also dump all my creative ideas as well as read but I will talk about that later).  I also read before bed to help me sleep as it helps minimize the endless rolling of thoughts that would otherwise keep me awake all night.

I also bring along a book with me in case I have any waiting times during the day. This also helps me manage my time in that my ADHDness loses track of time often and I end up arriving late to places, except that I'm looking forward to having a few moments just me and my book, so I leave ridiculously early so I can have that time.  That means I'm at most of my appointments just on time.

2. I follow my energy, or as my daughter would say, the vibe. In the early mornings I like to sit and read but in the late morning, especially if I'm reading out loud to someone else, I like to pace.  Also, if I'm high energy, I put a lot of drama in my voices and exclaimations.  If I'm reading to just myself, I will still read out loud, even perform, to make that noise and focus myself with the stimulation.  Sound a little crazy?  Maybe, but it's also fun and keeps me on task.

I'll add here that when I was a child, I used to ride my bike and even drive an off road quad while reading.  I do not recommend this, but my need for movement to help me focus is what is key here. A rocking chair may do it for someone else. Or walking a track that they don't need to pay attention to.  Reading in the car if it doesn't give you motion sickness (not while you are the driver though).  Treadmills could work for someone else but they are too weird for me.  I need to vary my pace and not be worried about tripping on that grippy rubber bottom.

3. If I want to read but I'm getting distracted, I add stimulus.  First, I do read out loud in outrageous ways.  It isn't too long before I settle down into after that. I'll also take my bookmark and go through line by line.  I take notes of characters as I go, or details that might be important.  In other words, I add a task for myself that is centered on the reading.  I may tap my fingers or play with a fidget but I prefer a stim that is directly related to the text.

I will also take myself out to a more stimulating environment with background noise.  Coffee shop or some nature area with running water or chirpy birds. Or turn on a radio station loud enough that I can hear it, but not actual words.  This is a tricky one because ambient noises can also distract, and my inability to filter out irrelevant noises, especially conversations can make this work well or terribly. The worst place is actually the library, as it's too quiet that I can hear every shuffle, cough and whispered question.  All of that grabs my attention and away from my book.  So I find a nice burble that is not too loud but still filters out the tiny unpredicted sounds.  Some people use headphones and a repetitive beat, trance music, or something they enjoy but doesn't demand excessive attention.  Familiar old television shows, white noise machines, or your spouse talking also works well for some.

4. I also follow my mood.  I am reading four or five books at any particular time.  I do enjoy a variety of genres and non-fiction all over the place as I am a total book slut.  But I do swap my books around throughout the day.  In the mornings I like to tackle my big heavy non fictions, with historical or pathological topics.  They tend to be heavy hardcovers that sit supported in my lap while I hold my coffee. Before bed, I read lighter topics that are entertaining but don't suck me in so bad that I can't sleep.  Children's adventure fiction is my choice here, although if it's been a hard day, it might be Garfield or Calvin and Hobbes.  I have also been known to have a small stack beside me of books that I read a couple of pages of each, rotating the order through if I am having a hard time focusing but still want to sit and read.  The switching books allows for small dopamine surges that works kind of like channel surfing or checking my social media.

5. Oh, social media.  So this is genuinely a problem.  ADHD and social media is the most dangerous combination.  I am managing a lot of it by setting timers and restrictions.  For instance, ten minutes of reading, set down book, pick up phone for five minutes, and then ten more minutes of reading.  For anyone who thinks I just stay idle for hours reading, you'd be very surprised how often I get up and move around.  I just build in the phone checks or wanders in the kitchen for snacks instead of trying to stop it.  Boundaries not barriers.

6. Speaking of ADHD, there are a couple of specific issues we have.  The above suggestions might be helpful for any neurology, at least to try and see if it helps.  But ADHD has two key issues in particular.  First is dyslexia is quite common and a complication that does not apply to me.  I can not address this, but if anyone has resources they like to share, please comment!  I have dyscalculia, which has it's own set of trials and tribulations, but it doesn't affect my reading.

Another issue is that many people with ADHD are bombarded by ideas, things they should be doing, things they want to do, and random, intrusive thoughts that are nearly impossible to shut off. What I do is keep a piece of paper beside me with a pen and I write it down as it occurs to me, then back to my book.  I do not make this paper a to-do list, which is a whole other set of problems for people who lack the ability to prioritize and have 'pick up medication' on the same list as 'paint the basement'. Oh nos.  On this paper I put the date on top and then I scribble down or draw whatever occurs to me.  I may, if I think there is something important later, scan the list and see what it was (pick up milk?  feed the dog?) but mostly I tuck it into a folder I keep (eventually) and never expect to look at it again.  If I am every stuck for ideas when I sit down to work, I may go back and scan a few sheets because they are chalk full of random fun stuff that usually gets me working on something.

The above list is not complete obviously, and addresses mainly the adult who is trying to read for pleasure. For required reading such as school work or legal documents, or encouraging your kids to read, there are many resources written about it online and in... books!

Additionally, I do not have a visual imagination, so I can not address how people picture it.  I do experience stories with imaginary textures or moods or sort of murky feels, but that is definitely a neurodiverse dark alley that we don't need to talk about right now.

Good luck to everyone who are now confronting their home libraries and vowing to tackle some of the books they've been meaning to read.  Unless you Marie Kondo'd your books away, then, well, you just get judgement and heads shakes from me.

Let us know if there is things that you do that help you focus and enjoy your reading time.

book drifts and a lap top bag

As I get older, I find myself worrying less about goal setting and thinking more about how I should live.  What constitutes a good life?  It's creeping into midlife, late night thoughts of mortality territory, and the more I think about it, I realize, the less I know.

Which is probably why this is what my bedside looks like:

Actually, this ever shifting messy pile of books is not a new thing.  I'm just trying to justify my book drift with my existential angst.  I've always been untidy with books, coffee cups and general art supplies.  A little cavalier when it comes to leaving my mark on things, especially since I consider literature, art and curiosity to be of much higher priority than being neat and clean.

My childs have learned well from me.

We don't need no stinking gloves.  Our kitchen table bears the marks of a hundred projects.  And often our art falls into collaboration, as we inspire and encourage each other.

Messy creativity with weak boundaries may not be a virtue, but it still qualifies as a way of life.

In the same way, I love combining what I read with what I make.  One of my favorite children's books is Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.  I love it as much for Alvin Schwartz's short stories as for Stephen Gammell's illustrations.  If you don't have a hard copy, you can check out some of the stories here.

My attempt at recreating the illustration from The Dead Man's Brains is not super duper excellent, but it was a free hand machine stitch drawing that I touched up a bit with water colour and wanted to keep around because it's still kind of cool.  And reminds me of a good book.

This is it:

I've made it into a laptop bag, since I've been transporting the laptop back and forth from home to my studio. It is all machine stitched, no hand stitching.  A closer look:

You'll have to forgive my messed up hand, with the scrapped knuckles from the gym and the nail polish that girl child applied.  She's a great kid, but not so precise with the paint (see second picture of this post).

Also, on the theme of screw ups, I managed to some how put the patchwork panel intended for the back of the bag on the inside and putting the inside pocket intended to hold a power cord on the outside back. 

My only real defense is that while piecing the bag together I was also having a small argy-bargy with The Man over text messages about what-I-can't-even-remember, and I was all flustered and did not pay enough attention to what I was doing.  Which reminds me why I wanted to have a studio in the first place, so I could focus on what I was doing and not have to redo things or rip them out so often because I was distracted by family life.  I will have to start ignoring messages from home, keeping at least one boundary a little intact.   

 

I don't think that will stick though.

book cat wine

The Man tells me I have a couple of warning signs that I may need a couple hours on my own to decompress.  The big two are when I "get a little shout-y" and when I have more sighs than a grim reaper convention.

Ha.

Tonight it seemed like there are a few more grim reapers around than usual so I've been banished to my room with a glass of wine and my book to experience my fourth favorite time of day.

My fourth favorite time of day is the middle evening, when the sun is sitting low in the west, dappling my bedroom in dancing shadows made by the hedge outside my window and I get to enjoy the warmth of the room with my Tiny Cat snuggled in beside me.

My third favorite time of day is afternoon quiet time, when I lay down on my bed and read my book with Tiny Cat stretched out beside me, with his head resting on my arm and snoring gently.  If you've never spooned with an unconscious cat, you haven't lived.

(Please note that I said 'quiet time', not 'nap time', because I am an adult.)

My second favorite time of day is right before lights out time, when I have my hot lemon drink or glass of wine with my book, Tiny Cat curled over my feet, all snacked up from his evening treats and dozing off.

My absolute favorite time of day is when I first wake up and The Man has placed a cup of coffee on my side table (which is a chair), and I read by myself (and Tiny Cat) for an hour or so before I start the day with the childs and the gym.

I swear, I actually do leave my bedroom sometimes.

It seems like a lot, like I spend my days reading in bed, but I actually pull the trick nearly every woman I know does, of handling all the things and still putting supper on the table.  Actually, with all the activities we do, running this way and that around the province for roller derby and home school bureaucracy, I feel like I'm hardly ever home.  I spend hours in a car every day.  Reading in bed is not a guilty pleasure, it's absolutely central to who I am as a human.  It is key to my health, physical and mental.  Plus, it's good for the cat to have us some quality snuggle time.

It's always seems a bit odd to me to think of myself as belonging to a group of people, since the times when I feel completely and utterly myself, I am alone(ish).  But I do have a tribe, of sorts, of fellow heavy readers, whom I will probably never meet and don't really want to anyway.  At least in person.

Hey, you, not paying any attention to me because you've got your face stuck in a book!  Twinsies!

It is just now creeping up to my favorite time of day that is just before my favorite time of day, which is reading to a child time.  Every night, I read out loud to either boy child or girl child (I alternate with The Man), from a book that we've picked out together.  Or the child insisted on and I'm too weak to resist.  Right now girl child and I are reading the second Dirk Gently book, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams (my favorite Adams' book) and boy child and I are reading Astrix and the Secret Weapon.  Speaking of the low and variable lighting in my room, I have loads of good things to say about the Astrix books, but the size of the print is not one of them.

Do I have to mention that Tiny Cat always sits in on story time?

My roller derby team has expressed some interest in having our daily read out loud time become a Skype event.  My description of snuggling up in bed every night with my hot drink or wine, diving into a book for an hour of uninterrupted reading sounds delightful for many people.  Also I do the voices so I can be quite entertaining.  Who doesn't want to have some very excellent book read to them while they relax in bed?

The question is, why don't we all read out loud to one another more often or at all?  We love our stories (movies, podcasts, Netflix, all different ways of telling stories) but reading out loud to someone, especially as a daily just-what-we-do event, is rare beyond early childhood.  There is something wonderful about a live human voice that is telling a story that you can interact with, to slow down or speed up or explain, or pause to appreciate the weird and funny thing the cat is doing. 

With someone reading out loud to another, the immersion in the story is a collective and social experience, yet personalized and unique.  When I read a book to one child and then the other, I subtly alter the character voices and emphasize different aspects of the story to fit the child's interests.  I can tell when they've missed something important or funny and go back over the passage.  I read slower to one than the other.  It is theatre, a performance for one, and can never be repeated exactly.

I do experience the same when I read quietly to myself, my own mental state changes the way I receive a book.  Books, in return, cast light on my own life, reflecting back my thoughts but offering a new perspective that helps me figure out what to do or to appreciate what I have.  This is just one of many ways that reading forms the core of my health and being.  My heart rate slows, my brain focuses and entering a world that is beyond my narrow self-interests nourishes my spirit.

Like this evening, when I'm starting to get a bit shout-y, having being sent off with a book is the most healthy and proficient way to halt the mood and refresh.  It's my (and the cat's) favorite time of day. 

 

Girl child's revenge

This is a picture of girl child's arm.  She used it as a reference today as she wrote her second post on her new blog, Book Drift.  She's great with the reading but maybe not so much with the math.

I have conflicted feelings about having a vulnerable twelve year old showcase her tentative writings on the Internet, where all sorts of unfriendly people can post their opinions of her opinions, but girl child tells me that she's good with that, she just wants a place where she can practice her writing and share just enough of herself to build a small community. 

Or she wants revenge against me for blogging about her since her toddlerhood.  I know she's been itching for an opportunity to refocus the spotlight a little.  I have written thousands of words about her, posted hundreds of photos.  Oh, dear. 

I am freaking out here because I totally deserve everything she's going to say.

So far so good, though.  Two blog posts in and I've only cast in a small supporting role. Maybe I'm not nearly as important as I thought?  Or maybe I should be worried that she hasn't talked about me.  Maybe she's got more than me happening in her life?! What if she never talks about me at all? 

What about me?

I have predicted that it will all end in tears anyway.  Probably mine.

A few reasons why we read out loud everyday

For about an hour every evening, my husband and I read out loud to one of our children.  The Man and I swap them every night, heading to our chosen corners of the house, and we each have our own books that we are reading through.  Currently girl child and I are working our way through Terry Pratchett's Discworld series and Boy child and I are on the second book in a Minecraft fan series called The Elementia Chronicles by Sean Fay Wolfe.  It will take a month or two to read an entire novel with a child this way.

There are so many reasons to regularly read out loud to your children and the Internet has probably said all the super legit and adult reasons already, so I don't have to.

BUT, I do have a couple of highly personal and self-interested reasons to read out loud wonderful books that children fall in love with and ingrain in their psyche.  They may not be the main motivators, but I think they fall under the category of perks.

Such as: Nearly Immobile Children.

Children rarely sit still enough to be able to cuddle them and still sip a glass of wine.  I drink red and am a terrible laundress. Not spilling is a big issue for me.  Children rendered almost motionless as their fertile imaginations weave the story into stunning pictures in their heads while tucked under my book holding arm leaves another arm and its attached hand free for wine glass lifting. The better the book, the more likely wine will go on the inside of me instead of the outside.

Channeling Their Favorite Characters As A Motivator.

When I ask my daughter to do something, she sometimes does it.  When Hermione asks her, she just does it.  Hermione has more sway than I because Hermione is always right and look what happened to Harry when he didn't listen to her, right?  Being the actual 'voice' of a beloved character gives me the Power to make almost any request seem like it's coming from someone more sensible and lovable than me.  I make sure that my book character voices are distinct and consistent, enhancing my ability to instantly invoke their authority outside of story time.  Perhaps some may think of this as manipulative, but I prefer to think of it as bringing in reinforcements and avoid having to get all shouty.

(Though, sometimes I do feel a bit smug when girl child is all, 'Why you gotta bring Hermione into this, you know I can't resist?!' and do a little Vincent Price laugh in my head.)

Getting To Read All The Great Children's Books You Would Never Read On Your Own.

I know I missed a lot of great books when I was age appropriate for children's literature because I was so eager to get grown up.  Getting permission to take books out of the adult section was a hard won privilege at my local library and once I was allowed to leave the children's room, I never looked back. Until now.  Because, man, children's books are the best.  Like catching up with Watership Down and The Wolves of Willoughby Chase. But that's actually another topic.

What's just as great is reading contemporary children's literature that you may have never of even thought of reading.  Like the Bone graphic novels.  Reading graphic novels out loud, I admit, presents a particular challenge, but the boy and I actually worked out a pretty good system (though it cuts into my wine drinking somewhat).  I would never have the patience to read it on my own, but it turned out to be a great read with all sorts of interesting talking points (like, what is Thorn wearing now?!)  I also get to read stuff that may I want to read but couldn't really justify it since I have all sorts of 'adult' reading to do.  Like The Sisters Grimm series by Michael Buckley or Adventure Time and Minecraft fan created literature which have given me great insights into the cultural worlds of my kids and happen to be pretty funny and entertaining.  In general, I may not read Kate DiCamillo in a coffee shop by myself, but I will happily read her out loud to my kids in that coffee shop (and I'm convinced that at least one or two adults around us being forced to listen in are also happy about it).

What are some of your personal reasons for reading out loud to your kids?

juxtaposition

I am cruel to my children. I force them to share a room. It is a small room with a bunk bed, a dresser, a clothes rack and an itty bitty chair that the cat could sit on if it skipped breakfast.  The open spaces in the room are all up above head level, thus the top bunk of the bunk bed is ongoing contested territory.

Girl child lost the latest round of high level negotiations - boy child cried and she caved.  Upon taking up residency in the bottom bunk, she discovered the former tenant, her brother, had written a slanderous comment about her on the bottom of the top bed.  It was obviously written in a moment of passion, and I was impressed at his spelling, but the girl believed that she couldn't go to sleep under such conditions and decided to paint the slates more to her liking.

The bottom bunk now has a rainbow ceiling, which is quite lovely and cheerful.

Lovely and cheerful is exactly how I'd describe my girl child. Even when she is not.

Girl child is a writer by nature and I often find bits of stories, lyrics and poems left about the house.  Her stories are mostly adventures, featuring animal characters with heroic qualities.  Her poetry is decidedly less optimistic.  Here is a typical sample:

It is through her poetry that her inner nihilist speaks.

When I tell people that I have a gloomy girl, they look at her big smile while she roller skates by or performs on the stage, and they do not believe me.  Her interests include sports, theatre, reading and death positivity.  She wrote her first ever piece of fan mail to Caitlin Doughty of Ask a Mortician, after reading her memoir, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes.  She is in touch with her inner darkness.

It is sometimes said sardonically that you get exactly the child you deserve.  And sometimes when we clash, when she turns to me with her chin stuck out, cussing her defiance, I think, 'yes, that's me thirty years ago.'  But I also have a child who is unafraid of looking at life from all angles, the hope and the futility, the beginning through to the end, and embracing it all as normal and natural. 

She may seem like a contraction, from her rainbows to her skeletons, but she's more expansive than contrary.  Life with this child means picnics in the graveyard and cuddles while reading about Victorian funerary rites.  We take long walks through the woods, chatting while looking for animal bones.

 It is thrilling for me to have this brave spirit, this cheerfully gloomy person, in my life. 
           

Robert Louis Stevenson

From Treasure Island.

I wonder if the childs are trying to tell me something.

meeting Miss Marple

I've just started reading my first Agatha Christie book.  I'm a bit embarrassed that I haven't read her before.  I'm such a fan of Doyle, Poe, and even true crime writers such as Max Haines, that it's a bit strange that I haven't actually made Miss Marple's acquaintance before now.  I did grow up in an atmosphere saturated with Perry Mason, Matlock, Murder She Wrote and always adorable, Columbo; maybe I just thought I already knew all there is to know about the whodunnit?

Then I a few days ago I discovered the Flavia du Luce series by Alan Bradley and my love of mysteries has been reignited. 

Although we just met, Miss Marple is already an old friend.  She's entirely familiar.  I've known her in the guise of so many characters that she has inspired. A chilly afternoon tea and cardigan pal.  I was only a couple pages into The Body in the Library when I started to wonder if it is possible to knit while reading?

I have a friend who assures me that you can indeed knit and read.  She does it all the time.  I wish I could ply my craft while reading but I suspect that serger use while engaged in reading is a short path to heartache and, maybe, a trip to the emergency room.  (Where I could read while I wait to have my finger reattached?)

What can I do while reading though?  I may have a slightly checkered past in which I could sometimes be accused of failing to appreciate the moment, my surroundings, other people, etc., because I've had my face in a book.  I feel no remorse. Often, the moment is overrated.  And now that the world has their faces buried in their smart phones, I am totally free to pull out my paperback and read a couple pages.  Social rules have been turned upside down and instead of complaining about the rudeness of people texting while visiting, I will simply use it to my advantage.

In the interest of full disclosure, I've complied a list of activities that I can think of off the top of my head that I've done while reading.  Perhaps you can share some of your reading friendly activities as well, so I can add them to my repertoire?

walking
eating
dating
comforting distraught children
answering nature's call
showering (not with a library book, though)
being a passenger in planes, trains and automobiles
piloting an off-road vehicle
doing dishes
folding laundry
washing and subsequently blow drying hair
preparing meals
painting

Photo by girl child, who claims that this is often all that she ever sees of me.

(Just a little aside, check out the minimalist literary designs from Creative Daffodil on Etsy.  I love the Christie shirt.)

again

When you think that you've read every book by a certain author, especially that one, but you happen to take a browse through that book again at the library and turns out that you actually haven't read it. So you take it home and start to read and it's brilliant! But then about fifty pages in creeping familiarity suggests that you actually have read this book and just forgotten most of it, even though it's so delightful and funny.  So you continue to read it since about ninety percent of it is basically brand new to you and your addled brain, and you enjoy it immensely.  Again.  And then you go eat some coconut oil and worry about the concussions you received as a child.

I have often wished when I've completed a particularly good book that I could go into my brain and erase the book so I can read it anew once again.  Should I worry or celebrate?

a year and a half

An overly generous selection of random photos I had on the now closing Tumblr over the past year and a half. Wanted to post them here, before they are gone.  For me.