This blog post was inspired by the following delightful French animated short:

I remember devouring books as a child. Even though we had a computer and computer games which I played a lot, I still loved to pick up a book and read. In high school, I had a few favourite authors, but didn’t read much outside of them. At university, gaming pretty much took over, and I barely ever touched a book unless it was related to me not failing a course. My days as a part time bookseller did wonders to restore my flagging literary libido, giving me access to a wide variety of books that were hot off the presses.

These days I read content that bores the hell out of me, a few blogs which I find interesting, and mindless humour sites. Even though I work a relatively short day, I find myself pretty knackered by the time I get home. (I believe this has a lot to do with the boring content I have to read, but that’s a completely different story). Apart from comic books and graphic novels, the majority of the books that I actually finished are all read when I return home to Pietermaritzburg. This usually happens around June, and then again over Christmas. Having an abundance of time on my hands, and finding satellite television an almost complete waste of time, I usually get through 3 to 4 books in about two weeks, in addition to whatever mindless activities I find to fill the rest of the time. Apart from those short bursts of literary binging, I probably read maybe 3 books over the rest of the year, which does bring me to about a book a month.

I find myself wondering, not too long ago I used to read a book a week. What the hell happened?