On reading

My wife and I are voracious readers. When we moved in together, our book collections collided like two large, slow-moving barges. We were (are) literally swamped with books -- hard covers, paperbacks, textbooks. You name it, we have it.

It was also stunning how similar our reading tastes were. If you don't believe me, take a look at any of the dozen or so bookshelves in the house and you will see duplicates of at least half the books. Mine and hers. Ain't that sweet?

We go through periods where I read more than she does. But I'll admit it: She out-reads me. The woman always has her nose in a book. Always. Me, I read most every day and go through two or three novels a month. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

She reads a novel a week, sometimes more. And our 12-year-old son might read more than the both of us combined.

I also admit that I have a stack of books on the dresser next to our bed that has grown precariously large. It wobbles and sways and is always threatening to fall down upon my head while I sleep. Probably adding Stephen King's Under The Dome to the top of the pile wasn't the smartest move, since it weighs about as much as a 1974 Ford Thunderbird.

The pile represents every book I've read since last spring. All are new purchases, and here's the deal: We no longer have room for them! None of them. Our bookshelves are double-rowed as it is (books in front of books!).

While the Wife and I like many of the same books and authors, we have our separate faves, too. She likes what I sometimes lovingly call "chick books," those romantic books (not romance per se, though) that are almost exclusively written by women. I read Lawrence Block Scudder detective novels when I'm bored. I figure that makes us even.

But we share a love of many classics, along with Anne Tyler books, Pat Conroy books and most anything by Tom Clancy. I know! My wife is a Clancy freak. Go figure.

The point I'm getting at here (laboriously, I admit) is that in order to write well, one must read. A lot.

I know many so-called writers in the journalism world who brag that they don't read for relaxation or enjoyment. How sad for them. I can only imagine how much better their writing would be if they read more.

So crack open a good book and kick back. You deserve it.

Oh, and please comment and let me know your faves. Maybe we can work out a swap. If nothing else, I can maybe get that pile down to a more manageable height. Like, say, five feet or so.