Blogging used to come easily to me.
When I was a teenager, I'd sit down at my computer (family computer,
dial-up internet) and write almost a post a day. Now I look back on
those posts with the same horror everyone does when they see remnants
of their former selves. Those posts are awful, but they're also great
because they are totally unhampered by my own self-consciousness or
hesitance. These days it's difficult to write a sentence without
stopping, pausing, changing a word, or starting again altogether. I
think that kind of honesty comes partly from anonymity, but also from
having something to say. This is my first post here, and it's a love
letter to books. I've loved books since I was a kid; ever since I can
remember. Memories of books are linked to memories of my life, with
phases and ages tied to the literature I devoured. Reading shapes
you. It changes who you are inside, helps you to grow, to travel, and
to dream. It gives you the chance to be something more.
