Confessions and where it comes from.

I have a confession to make.

Wait, I have two.

1. Sometimes I don't feel like writing.
2. Sometimes I don't feel like reading.

I know, but I'm a writer who started a book blog. How is that possible? Well here's how: like everything else, sometimes I hit a wall and burn out for a short period of time. I'll sit down all set to write a blog post or a theatre review or crack open a new book and all of a sudden I'm overcome with an overwhelming desire to anything else.

In the case of my writing, it's usually a story of writer's block. I can't think of anything clever or funny to say or something anything at all. I get stuck and before I know it, I can't put a single word to the page. Or as the case my be, to my blog.

Then with reading, I'll get all settled in to get lost in a novel or memoir and instead I find myself extremely tired and in need of a big ol' nap.

Luckily these are only phases and as quick as they set upon me, they are over and I can't wait to connect with new characters and write out all my thoughts. Because I know, I love writing and reading; there's really nothing like becoming engulfed in a new world created in an author's mind with characters I know I'll either fall in love or loath with.

And if you ever wondered where my affinity for reading comes from, I will tell you.

From my mother.

For as a long as I can remember, my mother has been more of an avid reader than I am. Chances are, in my parent's house you will find my mom curled up on her chaise lounge or in her bed with one of many books she is reading. Her coffee table is always full of five or six or seven different books she will get through in only a matter of weeks.

And when we talk, the conversation more often than not will turn to what we are reading, recommendations we have for each other, books we've heard about and are interested in or books on our reading lists. She's always discovering new, amazing authors or fascinating books she feels I must read. So I do and I love them. I can't think of a book she's recommended to me that I haven't enjoyed. She's the reason I brought you Past Secrets and Eat, Pray, Love.

Since I was a little girl, my mom has told me (and my siblings) just how important reading is. When I was little, I read because she made me but now I read because I love it. And I learned that from her.