I bring this up because I have become fiction averse lately, and I'm worried that I'm becoming someone my 20 year-old-self would have trouble conversing with. For weeks, I've been wondering why I don't read anymore. As I put aside yet another finished library book yesterday, I realized that saying "I don't read anymore" is not exactly accurate. (And J, who notices the huge stacks of books I cart to and from the library on a bi-weekly basis has been wondering where the hell I got that idea from in the first place.) I don't read fiction anymore, but I've been gobbling up books of sociology, parenting, humor, psychology, politics and theory. Okay, so the reading bug is still alive and well. It's just become one that doesn't read fiction and doesn't read books more than once. Horrors!
This really worries me for LO. He's already growing up with a mechanical engineer father. What hope is there for him if his mother doesn't regularly run away into a good novel? He might develop social skills! Then where will we be?
LO and I read together regularly, and I've tried steering his preferences more toward fiction. So far, he's shown no interest whatsoever in Jane Eyre, but he quite likes Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel. Clearly, he's his father's child. But, at least Mike and the steam shovel are fictional. And so far, re-reading books to LO is like he's experiencing them for the first time again. There's hope yet!