I never realized how strangely cathartic it is to review books. I always knew that talking about them, in general, is a fun experience, but this feels like a purge. It’s sort of soothing almost to scream into the void that is the internet my feelings about a book. I was never the type of person who would join book clubs or whatever because I could never get into those sort of settings. When I read for pleasure, I read the books I want to read when I want to read them.
Honestly, everyone I know is too busy to read for pleasure. Hell, I’m too busy to read for pleasure for most of the year because I have 50+ pages of readings for my nursing classes every week during the semesters. And even when I find the time, I tend to read books that my friends aren’t exactly interested in which makes it hard to keep the conversation going. But when we do get to read the same books, man oh man, it feels so good.
Maybe I should join a book club. Or — nah. Book clubs are time and time isn’t something I have much of these days with nursing school.
Besides, it’s more fun and purifying to scream into the internet. I can take the time to type out everything I want to say, to research other materials to add weight to my argument, and to polish/edit what I’ve written so it’s not an incoherent mess. It gives me time to cover all my bases and hit every spot I wanted to it — and even if I don’t necessarily get to all the points I want to touch, I can hit the majority of the things I loved and/or hated about a book.
It’s word vomit except it's a more eloquent version of what I would say if I was rambling about a book.
Anyway, make sure to check out my reading blog or my Goodreads when you get a chance.