A Year of Reading Well

As with most of the world, when December begins its final countdown to the end of the year, I find myself reflecting on what has transpired over the past twelve months. This year, perhaps more than any other, has been a year of transition and new experiences. And I am glad it is over. Not one for making New Year's resolutions, generally because I have a fear of failure, so why make resolutions you won't be able to keep? I did find myself asking What have you learned this year? How will you live differently based on your experiences? Will you look at the world differently? Have your priorities changed at all? Here is what I came up with, not so much a list of resolutions as it is a framework by which I hope to live my life this year:

2011, a year of living well. A year of returning home and growing roots. A year of uncertainty and taking risks. A year of being alone and being okay. A year of getting to know myself. A year of reading well, of discovering the classics and revisiting old pages. A year of investing in friendships. Of saying yes to experience more than I say no. A year in writing, in self-exploration, in self-expression. A year in honesty.

Strangely enough what has me most excited is "a year of reading well." Those who know me at all, know that I almost always have a book in my hands or tucked in my bag. This year has been altogether dismal in terms of my literary explorations. Working on a film leaves little time to spend between the pages of a book. This year I wanted to begin living well by reading well. So far success! I know, I know. It's 9:00 p.m. on January 1st, so it's not like I've even given myself the opportunity to fail. But I have completed my first book of the year, Water for Elephants. I spent the whole day snuggled up on various couches and chairs around the house with my aunt's Kindle, diving into the post-stock market crash world of the traveling circus.

First of all, let me point out that this was my first encounter with the Kindle. Although it wasn't a negative experience, there is something to be said about the turning of a page. The soft, yet sometimes rough feel of the paper between my fingers, the smell of ink and pulp, the weight of a book in my hands. It's too much to give up for the sake of technology and a lighter book bag.

That being said, the story Water for Elephants, itself was just beautiful. I have to admit that part of why I chose this book was because I want to see the film based on this novel that will be released later this year, and I refused to see the movie without having first read the book. So much of my inner imaginings have been tainted by viewing the trailer to the film. Perhaps tainted is too strong a word, influenced may be better. The colors and even the song used in the trailer helped me form this beautiful world of big tents, gaudy costumes, gilded trains, and elaborate performance rings. The story begins at the end. There is a murder, and subsequently a mystery unfolds. How did it come to this? Why has he kept this secret for so long? The answers to these questions do not come until the last few pages. And they are not really the answers I was expecting. By this point I find myself totally immersed in the freakshow of the circus. Rooting for drunks, cheering on the adulterers, praying the antagonists will get theirs, and that love truly will prevail. I found myself doing all of this, yet at the same time asking when it became okay for us to champion the adulterer? Why am I hoping the most immoral characters will meet a truly gruesome end? I found myself intrigued by these characters, rising and falling with them as they fight for acceptance and fall in love. Swept away into a life I had never even dreamed about. It was the perfect, quiet way to begin this new year, the year of reading well.