Every summer I used to haunt the local used book store near my grandma’s place in Oyama, BC, where I’d stay for the majority of summer holidays. I’d carry an armful of Stephen King, Ann Rice, James Rollins and Tom Robbins back to my grandma’s house, grab a glass of ice tea and an orange creamsicle bar and lounge poolside whilst lost in worlds of vampires, pet cemeteries, subterranean creatures and surrealist seriocomedies.
But then I had to go to university, and had limited time to read for fun. I felt like if I had time to be reading something, it should probably be textbooks and research papers. Even though I took every English Lit course I could as electives, assigned novels simply couldn’t be enjoyed; they had to be scrutinized and dissected and written about for letter grades.
I didn’t get back on the book wagon until after I graduated university and secured a full-time job. But even then, any time I had a moment to spare to read I felt like I should be doing something else instead; something productive. I should be writing, I thought, because that’s what you need to do if you want to improve your writing skills as a communications specialist and freelance magazine writer.
So I started a blog. (more…)