From the National Post (and courtesy New Breed Librarian, who likely found it elsewhere), a broad, and evocative, summation of there we sit now with "Reading anxiety".

This article takes on the anxiety many of us feel as readers that we read (and read and read) but never get to the bottom of the pile. In our own house, we've taken to building an 'in' pile of magazine, to try to corral those we want to get through. Some of them sit there still, in their polybags unopened, blowin-cards unmolested.

Admittedly it takes some concentration and discipline(do I want to watch this repeat of Frasier, when I haven't really enjoyed the show in years? Don't play solitaire on that palm, read the book in your bag!), but even that doesn't get quite enough time.

And this doesn't address is all the other things that come with a word-filled (or addled) life. What about the writing we want to do, those half-jotted unfinished paragraphs that hang around until forgotten. Is this an artifact of our overcommited life?

Posted by esinclai at January 27, 2002 12:21 PM |