this reader's life

About once a year, irregularly, I get completely (re)hooked on crossword puzzles. Over the last month, it's happened again. What that means is that instead of reading in bed--which is really my best, most concentrated reading time--I do crosswords. Books don't do that, at least not the books I like. I can't count the number of times I've jerked awake to find my fingers still clenched around the clipboard and pencil. Yes, because I make mistakes and don't like a messy page, but I have a terribly attractive mechanical pencil and a really ugly 20-year-old eraser that I use pretty religiously.

I only do crosswords in bed, or on airplanes. Because they really do relax me in a way books don't do. I don't have to focus so intently, perhaps.

What this means to my reading life is that magazines are read during commercials on TV, books are read in the bathtub (when I'm caught up on magazines: I have two issues of Real Simple that are languishing, and I've taken to just recycling the Newsweeks on sight), at doctor's offices, and occasionally when it's calm in the evenings (with the TV off). My life's current lack of calm means I haven't been reading much.

I'll be back. I always am.