Books may simply be words on paper, but to some they hold other worlds to be explored or knowledge to be uncovered through the turn of a page. These people find adventure, dreams, peace, hope, belonging, and so much more in those words on paper. They are always seeking a new book to fill their minds, to offer them a brief escape. But what happens when no book will satisfy that longing? You have heard of writer’s block, but what about reader’s block?
Growing up I always had my nose in a book. Any spare moment was spent with pages open to other worlds. If I were ever close to finishing one story, I would carry the promise of another with me. I would lie awake for hours with not lines of text before me, but an adventure waiting to be had. I would I ask my father if he would take me to used book stores for my birthday because a book was the best gift one could be given. The words and worlds that lay within their binding offered an escape from the one in which I lived, and the characters provided a sort of comfort that my friends and family could not. More often than not, that was exactly what I needed, comfort and escape. These books helped me through the difficult struggles that life always seemed to have waiting around the corner. They molded me into the person I am today. I can easily say that reading is my greatest hobby, yet finding a book that speaks to me is more difficult now than I would have thought possible as a child.
Six months have passed, and I have only read four books this year, two of which were assignments for one of my college courses. However, I have picked up dozens of books. I have read the first twenty pages of each and found no spark. I have stared at unread tales that are collecting dust on my bookshelves hoping one would just call my name. I have tried forcing my way into the pages, but they did not bring the escape and relief I had always loved. I have tried Jane Austen's Emma, Dante's Divine Comedy, and Victoria Schwab's The Archived. I have tried rereading some of my favorite books like Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities, J.R.R Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, and Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus. The stories did not hold my interest as they once did so easily, but I want to read. I want to fall into another world, a beautiful story, and a crazy adventure. I want my heart to feel joy, love, pain and sadness alongside the characters.
I have wondered what has brought this reader’s block upon me, and I am sure I am not alone in experiencing this block. It is a small sort of torment for those of us who love books so dearly. It is as if we are grasping at something just out of reach.
Fellow readers, comment below if you have any recommendations for pulling myself out of this book slump or if you have had a similar experience.
