It's been awhile since I've been serious about reading. The last several years I've been playing at it, picking up books from a few favorite authors and reading lots of self-help to try to find my way out of a dark and lonely place. (Yes, I know self-help books rarely actually help, but I thought--I hoped--that the mere act of looking for answers would help me stumble on some, in the way that just making an appointment to see a therapist can make you feel better.)

Anyway, little by little, piece by piece, my life has managed to find its way back to good. And I have been wanting to find something that I'm passionate about, something that can be all about me. So I started reading again. 

At first, it was amazing. There are so many choices out there. So many things to read. Ebooks. Audio books. Book podcasts. Book groups. Book sites. Book blogs. Book apps. The world has so much to offer. 

Then it got frustrating. There are so many choices out there. So many things to read. Ebooks. Audio books. Book podcasts. . . . Well, you get the point. So where do I start? And if I do figure out where to start, where do I go from there?

I've been thinking a lot about this, and here's what I've come up with: I'm going to read what I want. You may think some of my choices are frivolous or Not Important Enough or too British (sometimes I wonder if I wasn't born on the wrong side of the planet). And you are welcome to think that. In the mean time, I'll just be over here reading.