On an average day, I do manage to accomplish tasks other than reading novels. But my book habit fits in so snugly around those tasks. For instance, making polenta or risotto or chocolate pudding or bechamel sauce is much less boring if I read while stirring. It's easy to shell peas or trim green beans while reading. Naturally every trip to the bathroom involves a book, as does every blank moment during a kid's sporting event, piano lesson, or orthodontist appointment. The books I'm reading seep into the spaces of everything I do; and the only reason I didn't start this conversation while our group was undertaking A Winter's Tale is because I was reading the play out loud with Paul . . . a torturously slow process that was steadily driving me crazy. I do love that my 12-year-old wants to read Shakespeare, but reading these books is my private vice, like chocolate bingeing is for other people. I did not enjoy waiting for him.
Yet I'm also loving the novelty of sharing a common project with all of you, so I will try to persevere at this slow speed, meanwhile hoping you will forgive me for any page-turning impatience that erupts.