Who Reads for Fun?

This is the question that you will hear asked around the world, with equal parts wonder and contempt by thousands of young adults in their teens and early twenties. This is one of those questions that could mean a million things. "Who reads for fun?" could mean "I have 85 17th Century Spanish love poems to read before class at 9:30 tomorrow, no I haven't picked up A Game of Thrones." It could also mean, "It's Trivia Night at TopO, no I'm not staying in to see how The Night Circus ends.

It's one of the defining questions that puts those of us who do read for fun on edge. What's wrong with reading for fun? I often want to ask, belligerently. Yes, there have been nights where I've neglected my homework to crack open my the newest book I've bought from the used bookstore I love on Franklin Street. And yes, there have been nights where my girlfriends have had to wait an extra 30 minutes for me to see how a book ends before we go out for the night.

I love to read. I love to read everything, fiction, nonfiction, the newspaper, poetry. I love to read books that make me cry, and books that make me laugh, and books that are so awful they should have never been written.  I'm as guilty as any college student of sometimes not reading as much as I should. It's hard when you have 3 midterms and two papers due to pick up a book you're reading for fun. When I've slept 13 hours total in 4 nights,  the first thing on my mind isn't "great now I can start The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo." But, I always come back to books, because I need to read like I need to breathe. I'm not the same person when I don't have four paperbacks stacked on my nightstand. I love to escape the stressful world of college to slip into the fantasy of The Hobbit.

So, I invite you to join me on my journey as a renegade college student who spends long days, and long nights reading for fun. Yes, there are days that I curse my mother for instilling this love of reading so deep within me that I can't stamp it out, and yes there are weeks (sometimes months) that pass by when I don't finish a single reading that hasn't been assigned to me, but I count myself firmly among the few, the proud, the bookish.