Flashback to 10 years ago, I hated reading with a passion. At the time, I thought books were utterly boring and filled with dull characters, random adjectives and poetic devices thrown in for good measure. But then I picked up Twilight for the first time and I saw the light. Finally I found the true pleasure of reading at my fingertips and gosh, it was beautiful. A genre that spoke to my soul ... All I wanted to do was absorb every inch of fictional goodness out there; to truly indulge myself into any book that made me feel alive and inspired.
As time went by, I discovered the online community of book lovers and never looked back. The amount of engaging conversations amazed me. Sharing your thoughts with fellow fangirls and boys across the world has been such a life-changing experience. I found book buddies who loved discussing plot details at length, enthusiastically recommended books to one another and consumed every inch of news concerning new book and squeal releases. Through this all, I absolutely fell in love the book community. The celebration of new book releases and book hype trends has helped me discover so many incredible reads. I have been very thankful for that ... Well until the beginning of the year when I found myself being to think a little differently ...
When I moved to London in January, I was dedicated to working hard at my new job and spending time with friends and family. Between balancing full-time work and social commitments, I was exhausted. The commute was long, and due to other commitments I had, I just didn't have the time to read anymore. It didn't help that I was suffering from a major case of the classic reading slump. I found myself at an impasse. So unintentionally I took a break. A breather from the echoes of hype and written fiction.
It wasn't long until I started to hear about all these books that I needed to read. Squeals. New releases by debut authors. Established and respected authors releasing new books. Between my current TBR and the new releases coming out, it was so overwhelming. The need to catch up was oddly motivational yet completely putting off. So began the spiral staircase. Where would I even start? I felt like I was drowning in a sea of books, and all of a sudden I just didn't want to hear about it anymore. The hype and book trends made me feel claustrophobic. I couldn't help thinking, how did it even get to this?
When I started reading YA, I read for the passion of the story. I read for the pure pleasure of indulging in someone else's mindset. Now I've begun to feel the pressure to keep up with the popular books, so I can be a part of these amazing discussions with fellow book lovers and immerse myself in the book culture. I feel the guilt of not writing reviews when I've finished reading novels. What happened to the pure joy of it all? Lately, I just miss the teenage me who just read for fun. It's hard to find the balance between staying in the loop and pleasure. But maybe it's time to go back to what started the passion; the beauty of fiction as it's own art form.
What are your thoughts on Book Trends? Has the pressure to keep up affected you?
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