I Don’t Read
For that matter I don’t watch television either, and haven’t been to a movie in so long I can’t remember. I wonder if people have caught on that I don’t read. I write. I have always had trouble reading. I read backwards first of all, and no I’m not dyslexic. I read the way it makes sense to me. I want to know the now and not the when. I’ve actually had to train myself not to read the last word, of the last paragraph, on the last page of a book.
I honestly don’t like to read. I don’t not like to read either. I find it hard to concentrate on reading, because like in writing my imagination runs wild with someone else’s words. It’s not that I don’t like their story, in fact it is usually quite the opposite, but I really want my characters to be a part of theirs.
I’ve always called this “pizza math” and you say, Lynn we were talking about reading. Yes, that’s why it gets even more confusing. I process things the way they make sense to me. Color first, numbers second, words third, that’s the whole part of pizza math.
I find myself wanting to make excuses to people for not reading their stories, posts, tweets or emails. I skim though, I do. I think once upon a time I was a better reader, now I’m a better comprehender.
My time now seems to be spent searching for things to read. The Internet has become my big encyclopedia that I used to lay down on the floor reading. Hours I would lay there reading, but what made this easier is the way the stories had to be told. Everything is stored in my memory banks waiting for someone to ask me a question that were in those books, or of course The Little House on the Prairie books. I loved those.
Nonfiction and fiction are written and read and dreamed of, and concrete, until you add or take away your own feelings. Reading incites you, changes you, stimulates you. I love the way I read even though it probably doesn’t always get the job done, but I’ve learned a lot, grown a lot and have a lot more to learn. And by read I meant skim.