Finding Time To Read When There's No Time To Read

To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life. —W. Somerset Maugham

If you don't have time to read a book, you probably don't have much time to read this post, so I'll keep it short. Much to my reading dismay, I've found I have less time than ever to spend between the pages of a good book lately. Clearly, this is a problem for a girl trying to write a blog about books. It's an even bigger problem when said girl considers reading a refuge. Let's just say my crankiness rises as my reading time diminishes. In a nutshell: "If mama ain't reading, ain't nobody happy."

For the sake of my own sanity and my family's, I've had to get creative. Here are a few tricks I've found to be tried and true.

AUDIO BOOKS ARE YOUR BEST FRIEND

Hear me out on this one, even if Tracy, the purist, won't. I'm an ardent fan of listening to books. I wouldn't be able to read half as many as I do if I wasn't a listener. I listen when I walk my dog, work in the yard, clean my house, run errands, or wake up in the night and can't go back to sleep. It can make even the most mundane task a glorious escape. I find I actually look forward to cleaning the garage (one of my least favorite jobs) if I have a good book to listen to. And road trips? Give me a good book and I will happily drive for hours. You just have to watch me closely as I've been known to miss exits or entire towns when engrossed in a good story. For a list of some of my favorite listens, check out our bookshelf.

TAKE A BOOK WITH YOU EVERYWHERE

Stephen King wrote, "I take a book with me everywhere I go, and find there are all sorts of opportunities to dip in. The trick is to train yourself to read in small sips as well as long swallows." These past few weeks I put this idea to the test with great results. I found time to read waiting in the carpool line and a solid hour at the hair salon while my son Ben got his hair cut (it helps that his thick, luscious locks take five-ever to tame). The bonus of keeping a book with me? Besides finding time to read I didn't know I had, I found that as I reached for a book rather than my phone, I avoided the time-sucking vacuum of social media (good) and spent less time reading the news (even better...it's depressing anyway).

GO TO BED WITH A BOOK

I've been doing this my whole life. Some like to fall asleep to the television, I'll take a book any day...or night. I try to read every night, even if I can only make it a few pages before the book is falling out of my hands. This is just one more thing Tracy and I have in common with our imaginary BFF, Anna Quindlen:

I remember the first year after my second child was born, what I can remember of it at all, as a year of disarray, of overturned glasses of milk, of toys on the floor, of hours from sunrise to sunset that were horribly busy but filled with what, at the end of the day, seemed like absolutely nothing at all. What saved my sanity were books. What saved my sanity was disappearing, if only for fifteen minutes before I inevitably began to nod off in bed, into the dark and placid English rooms of Anita Brookner's newest novel, into the convoluted plots of Elmore Leonard's latest thriller, into one of my old favorites, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Goodbye,...Wuthering Heights. The romantic ramblings of Heathcliff make a piquant counterpoint to dirty diapers, that's for sure. And as it was for me when I was young and surrounded by siblings, as it is today when I am surrounded by children, reading continues to provide an escape from a crowded house into an imaginary room of one's own.

Posted by Rachel

Thank You, Harper

You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it. —Harper Lee

Harper Lee (1926 - 2016)

Thank you, Harper, for the gift of To Kill a Mockingbird and for helping us all believe in the power of a story well-told.

Read This Book

I can't go on. I'll go on. —Samuel Beckett

This one felt personal. I imagine it will for most as there are few who haven't been caught in cancer's crosshairs. This past week it took one of the good guys. My mom's brother, affectionately nicknamed Ornery—his crusty curmudgeon exterior a ruse to cover up the softy inside. He loved quietly, yet fiercely, and there wasn't so much as a drop of pretense in him. In spite of his goodness, and how many so desperately wanted him to stay, cancer, ever indiscriminate and callous, took him anyway. Just like it came for my cousin's husband last year, just months after her mother. And recently came knocking on the door of a dear friend. Paul Kalanithi asked, "If the weight of mortality does not grow lighter, does it at least get more familiar?" Lately, I'd say it's become all too familiar.

When Breath Becomes Air is the unfinished memoir of Paul Kalanithi. Diagnosed at the age of thirty-six with stage IV lung cancer, he simply ran out of time. To write and to live. At the time of his diagnosis, Kalanithi was on the verge of completing a decade's worth of training as a neurosurgeon. Suddenly, the future he had been so doggedly pursuing, vanished into thin air. In a moment he went from being a "pastoral figure aiding [his patients through] life transition[s],...[to a] sheep, lost and confused. Severe illness wasn't life-altering, it was life-shattering." It felt as though someone had "firebombed the path forward" and he would have to find a way to "work around it." And work around it, he did, and by doing so, teaches us all how to carry on living in the face of death. He wrote:

I would have to learn to live in a different way, seeing death as an imposing itinerant visitor but knowing that even if I'm dying, until I actually die, I am still living.

In his youth, books were his "closest confidants, finely ground lenses providing new views of the world." In the face of death, "it was literature that brought [him] back to life." Waking one morning in so much pain he thought, "I can't go on," the next three words of Samuel Beckett immediately came to mind, "I'll go on."  And so, repeating those seven words, "I can't go on. I'll go on," he got out of bed and went on. He found the words he needed to go forward. And we are all the better for it.

*Below is a beautiful interview with his wife. It says more than I ever could about why you should read this book.

Posted by Rachel

This One's For The Girl

It's possible that all labels are curses. Unless they are on cleaning products. Because in my opinion, it's not really a great idea to see people as one thing. Every person has lots of ingredients to make them into a one-of-a-kind creation. We are all imperfect genetic stews. —Holly Goldberg Sloan, Counting by 7s

We're huge fans of the #choosingtolovemyself 18 Day Challenge created by some pretty amazing women, including The Small Seed, Beauty Redefined, and Melanie Burk. The challenge, in a nutshell, is to break the habit of negative self-talk and instead learn to love ourselves exactly as we are, right now. What a novel idea! Why is it so hard to be our own biggest fan?

Now that we're all learning to see ourselves as the fabulously glorious humans that we are, let's throw some love and self-confidence our daughters' way so we aren't back here in a few years doing this same challenge with them. We've rounded up some books we love with strong female characters to help empower young girls. (For a more comprehensive list, we really love this site.) Next week we'll highlight great empowering reads for teens.

One thing Tracy and I know firsthand is that having a strong, supportive friend can make all the difference, so we've added a couple books that highlight positive friendships—helping young girls choose good friends and be one themselves.

OUR HANDS DOWN FAVORITE FOR ANY AGE

The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch

FOR AGES 4-6

Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans

Olivia and the Fairy Princesses by Ian Falconer

Stand Tall Molly Lou Melon by Patty Lovell

FOR AGES 6-8

Matilda by Roald Dahl

Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh

The BFG by Roald Dahl

Flora & Ulysses by Kate Dicamillo

FOR AGES 9-12

Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan

I Am Malala: Young Readers Edition by Malala Yousafzai

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg

The Princess Academy by Shannon Hale

The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale

 Book of a Thousand Days by Shannon Hale

BOOKS WITH POSITIVE FEMALE FRIENDSHIPS

Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson

Counting by 7s by Hollie Goldberg Sloan

Posted by Rachel

Book Club Monday

Although Geoffrey, Gilbert, and I grew up in this small place in Africa, we did many of the same things children do all over the world, only with slightly different materials....Children everywhere have similar ways of entertaining themselves. If you look at it this way, the world isn't so big.

One of my least favorite chores when I was little was feeding our dogs. Mostly because they were huge and hungry (a St. Bernard and Irish Setter) and would cover me in slobber. Already well on my way to becoming a professional procrastinator, I usually put it off until right before bedtime (sorry pups) and it was a long walk in the dark to their dog house. Trying to preempt anything real from scaring me, I'd allow my imagination to run amok and scare the daylights out of myself—cooking up scenarios where a variety of bad guys were chasing me, making it back to the safety of the house with only seconds to spare.

My late-night dashes and imaginary bad guys were a walk in the park compared to young William Kamkwamba's walks through the forest—in fear of the Gule Wamkulu, a gang of secret dancers, who were said to be the spirits of "dead ancestors, resurrected from the after-world and sent to roam the earth. No longer human, they shared the skin of animals and their faces resembled the beasts of hell—twisted devil birds and demons howling in anguish." Yikes. Add to that the magic lions sent to "kill delinquent debtors," snakes the size of tractors" lying in wait in the fields, or the very real lion that killed his grandmother, and you've got fears my young self couldn't have conjured up on her worst day (even after her older brother thought it would be fun to let her watch a Charles Manson movie).

Clearly, what separates us, and makes the the world seem larger than ever, is our fears. Real and imagined. Yet, when real tragedy strikes in the form of his uncle dying, and William sees his father collapse from the weight of grief, he writes, "It was the first time I'd ever seen my parents suffer, and the sight of it frightened me more than any magic ever could." And just like that, the world isn't very big at all.

Posted by Rachel

Weekly Wrap-Up

If one asked me to what do I think one must principally attribute the singular prosperity and growing force of this people, I would answer that it is the superiority of its women. —Alexis De Toqueville, De La Démocratie En Amérique

WHAT WE LOVE THIS WEEK

Maira Kalman. I still owe this woman an ode. My ode-owing is stacking up. What I wouldn't give to live next door to her so we could be real friends instead of imaginary ones. And The Pursuit of Happiness is one of my favorites of her books and especially applicable ahead of President's Day. Pick one of these up and you'll not only fall in love with Maira, but our country again. And for your kiddos (and let's be honest, you too), spark their patriotism and knowledge of former presidents with her Looking at Lincoln and Thomas Jefferson: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Everything.

The #choosingtolovemyself campaign. A few of our favorite instagrammers—Melanie Burk, The Small Seed, and Beauty Redefined—have teamed up with others to make this month of love all about learning to love ourselves and helping our daughters do the same. You can read more about it here. As Maira Kalman wrote: "I call my aunt in Israel. She is 92. And I ask her, 'What is the most important thing?' And she answers, 'Self-confidence.'"

Last minute Valentine's ideas. Because we pretty much operate on last-minute-standard-time. Thankfully, our friends at Caravan Shoppe have us covered. We'll take one of these, and in honor of Tracy's new pup Ringo, one of these as well.

Leo on love: "But the law of loving others could not be discovered by reason, because it is unreasonable." —Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

COMING NEXT WEEK

Finding time to read when there's no time to read. This has become all too real for me these past couple weeks, which is why (cough, cough) that long promised review of When Breath Becomes Air hasn't happened yet. The good news is I finished and happened upon some great tips for finding time to read along the way. It's a win/win.

In honor of the #choosingtolovemyself campaign, we'll feature books every young girl should read.

Our first real book club post of the month. Have you started yet?

Posted by Rachel

Throwback Thursday

Better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie.

It’s official: I’ve come off of Cloud 9 to write this post.  My Super Bowl weekend was awesome like Peyton! Clearly, I’m enamored by storybook endings. (Aren’t we all?) But I’m also willing to dwell in reality, so I’ll read the tough but poignant stuff. I have a friend who doesn’t like to read about characters that make poor choices. I might have been scratching my head when she aired those words because we can learn from others’ poor choices, can’t we? Books are teachers.  They’re advocators. They’re illuminators.     

My eyes were opened to the devastating history of war-torn Afghanistan when I read The Kite Runner. Amir, the son of a wealthy Kabal merchant, develops an unlikely friendship with Hassan, the son of his father’s servant.  Their friendship soars as high as the kites they sail in a local kite-flying tournament. Sadly, in a tenuous moment, Amir betrays his friend. Betrayal haunts him indefinitely. But the kite runner learns for himself (and reminds his readers) that wrongs can be righted.  And good can ultimately outmatch evil.   

This moving story teaches me much about redemption—that reclamation is possible if we doggedly chase after it.  Hope runs through this beautiful novel that will make you weep at times, and will make you rejoice at other times.  Maybe, just maybe, you’ll even find a storybook ending.

Posted by Tracy

The One And Only Crenshaw

Imaginary friends are like books. We're created, we're enjoyed, we're dog-eared and creased, and then we're tucked away until we're needed again.

Crenshaw is my second favorite story about an imaginary friend.  My first is about my Uncle Scott’s make-believe dog, Afro.  (His imagination was by no means politically correct, but it was big—there is that.)  He was just a skinny boy of seven. Afro was good company: he laughed at Scott’s jokes, he was fiercely loyal and equally obedient.  The two were a match made in pet heaven.  

One day Scott walked in with Afro and stood next to his brother who also happens to be my father—the kindest man you’ll ever meet.  Ask Rachel about Craig, she’ll confirm.  But boys will be boys. I’m not sure what prompted my dad to ask Scott where Afro was.  Probably testosterone.  At any rate, when Scott pointed out where his invisible friend sat, my dad stomped on him.  Stomped and then twisted his foot for crushing emphasis.  Scott crumbled to the floor.  He bawled uncontrollably.  His sobs shuddered and his body convulsed. I think it was at that moment that my grandma Dorcas said, “You’ll need to bury Afro.”  Aghast, my father exclaimed, “He’s not real!”  Dorcas gave my dad a matter-of-fact look, and explained, “He is to him.” I can clearly see my teenage father begrudgingly digging a shallow grave for an imaginary dog.  It makes me chuckle every time.  

Are imaginary friends as important as real ones?  Katherine Applegate thinks they are—at least the kind like Crenshaw.  He’s extra large, opinionated, and loyal.  Crenshaw appears when Jackson and his family fall on tough times.  Because Jackson is now a fifth grader and admittedly an “old soul,” he fights the idea of an imaginary friend.  He’s the kind of kid who likes facts, a real scientist in the making.  But Crenshaw is hard to resist.  He’s a black-n-white, San Francisco baseball cap-wearing cat. Pretty easy going. In fact, he doesn’t mind riding on top of the mini-van, especially if he has a few purple jellybeans in tow.  Honestly, Crenshaw won me (and my boys) over. If I didn’t have Rae, I’d probably need a giant cat that skateboards and takes bubble baths to walk me through the hard days.  Maybe Applegate wants all of us to understand that friends matter.  Period.  Real or imagined will work.

Posted by Tracy