Summer Reading

by Francine Puckly

​Ah, summer reading lists. I used to enjoy creating my personal list every Memorial Day weekend in anticipation of the long weeks of summer sprawled out in front of me. I had visions of digging my feet into sand (or the grass in my backyard) and whiling away the hours with book in hand. 

But as with most things in my life in the last ten years or so, I started getting carried away. I couldn’t put the brakes on. The list became a goal. It grew longer and longer. And it was impossible to complete it, leading to feelings of guilt and failure. “Guilt associated with summer reading?!” you say. Sadly, yes.

Last summer I set out to read the “Outlander” series by Diana Gabaldon. The entire series. I couldn’t read one book of the series. I had to read them all. Why I do this to myself, I’ll never know. I read 53 pages. 

So this summer I’m trying to resist the urge to stack books two feet high in the corner of my bedroom or to create a list of thousands of pages for my “summer reading pleasure”. Instead of pulling together a list ahead of time, I’m picking up a book here and a book there from the library, the local bookstore, or from friends at the ball field.

This practice has led mainly to beach reads from authors such as Elin Hilderbrand and Luanne Rice. And I’m okay with that. I’m not tackling Shakespeare or Homer or Steinbeck, but as I sip my iced tea, I’m savoring the tales that other writers have taken the time and care to pen. 

Isn’t that what reading is all about?