• Disappearing—The Joy of Reading?

    I was sad to hear a book group friend say her 11-year old-granddaughter didn’t consider it a treat to go to a bookstore to choose a book—she doesn’t read books. I was slow to realize the books I’d been gifting my 10-year-old niece weren’t a hit. Not because I’d chosen boring stories but because she doesn’t enjoy reading. It saddens me they won’t have the pleasure of being immersed in the imaginary worlds I have so enjoyed.

    Although it sounds counterintuitive, fiction presents truths through the lives of made-up people.

    I’ve learned about worlds I wouldn’t have access to any other way. Through novels, I’ve entered the lives of a Black Texas Ranger, an 15th century Chinese physician, an escaped enslaved woman, a modern-day reporter in India, Korean deep-sea divers, and more. I’ve gained insight and empathy by seeing cultures beyond my own and feeling the dilemmas of people unlike me. Memoirs also offer me inspiration and perspective for my own life.

    Recently, the disinterest in reading novels and the related inability to read whole books has been receiving attention. Several theories may explain the change.

    Instead of reading whole novels, many middle school students read excerpts and are tested on their ability to write critical analyses of the excerpts. To be sure, critical analysis is an important skill, but it appears to have the unintended consequence of editing out the joy of completing a good, satisfying story. 

    Reading whole novels requires skills many high school students aren’t taught. They grow bored, can’t follow the plot, and don’t connect to the characters or themes.

    That puzzles me, because TV and movies still engage us. With “Game of Thrones,” “Succession,” or “Slow Horses,” viewers enter into invented worlds and can track the plot and characters, so why not in novels and memoirs, whether paper or Kindle books? Perhaps nonreaders have lost the ability to imagine. With TV and movies, the visuals are supplied.  

    Shorter attention spans are also part of the problem, and students aren’t alone in this. Myriad distractions clamor for our attention and our culture serves up lots of information in short bits—texts, Instagram posts, 35- to 50-word news summaries. In 20 minutes, I might read a dozen short clips instead of one 3,000-word article. Constant interruptions have diminished my powers of concentration. I can still enjoy a 400-page novel, but these days, I get restless and impatient with longer novels.

    I learned to love reading whole stories as a girl when there were far fewer distractions. At 8 years old, I draped myself across an upholstered chair and devoured Nancy Drew mysteries. By 14, it was Daphne du Maurier. Often, I wonder about the characters in novels I’m reading and am eager to find out what happens next. 

    I wish my niece, my friend’s granddaughter, and their peers could experience the gift of being immersed in good books. The joy of being transported to another time or culture. The hours of pleasure, escape, and knowledge.

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    11 responses to “Disappearing—The Joy of Reading?”

    1. Karen Seashore Avatar

      I have an increasing number of friends — my age (very old) or a bit younger, who are “reading” recorded books. I always prefer a physical book (second, a book on my Kindle reader — usually from the library) to listening. But listening is also a skill and an alternative way of engaging with words. I wonder if the “kids” who don’t read would listen. I know that my 8 year old granddaughter already falls asleep listening to age-appropriate books…she has just started reading well enough that age appropriate “chapter books” are fun to read rather than challenging. We shall see…

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        Interesting thought! At least she hears the whole story and not just an excerpt. Seems like she’d still get a lot of the benefit.

    2. Ann Coleman Avatar

      I don’t want to live in a world without books! And it is very sad that many young people no longer like to read. They’re being raised on technology, and don’t have the patience or desire to read, I guess. But they’re missing out on something very special, and this doesn’t bode well for our future societies.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I worry too. The only impact I can think of is reading aloud to my granddaughters–not just toddler books but whole chapter books (if they’ll let me).

    3. Bev Bachel Avatar
      Bev Bachel

      It’s odd….and often disconcerting…that after reading at least a book a week for my entire adult life (I started keeping annual “books read” lists back in 1982, when I was an English lit grad student), I find myself drawn to podcasts. The 20 to 30 to 50 minutes they typically require (even less if I listen to them on doublespeed), feels a better fit for my retirement lifestyle. I particularly appreciate that I can listen to them while cleaning, driving and working out.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        That’s interesting! I also listen to podcasts, so reading + podcasts. One of my favorite is The Moth, so still stories.

        Are yours more informative –akin to reading articles?

        1. Bev Bachel Avatar
          Bev Bachel

          I had forgotten the Moth and just resubscribed. Some of the podcasts I listen to are informative/educational, others are entertaining. Am unsure why my reading has fallen off, do hope it’s only temporary.

    4. Eliza Waters Avatar

      I can’t imagine life without the escape of a good book. I agree that shorter attention spans are a robber of sorts. Humans invented labor-saving devices to create more leisure time, but in some respects, those devices are robbing us of true leisure.

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        It’s funny how our attention has become a precious commodity. It’s easy to bog down and get distracted from activities we like.

    5. Jan Avatar
      Jan

      I wish they would too Ellen! I can’t imagine not reading. Too much time on the internet!

      1. Ellen Shriner Avatar

        I hate to think reading would disappear as a passtime!

  • Anything I’d Recognize?

    Writing paid part of my tuition and living expenses in both high school and college. Stringer work, editing school publications, working in media relations, internships, freelancing. I stepped out of journalism school into local newspaper work then the wild world of advertising before settling into corporate communications.

    Now, a retiree from the briefcase world, I would love to have some years back from when creative writing took second, third or fourth place behind big obligations. There have been successes, some brilliant like being a part of a regional Emmy award-winning team, Midwest book awards, C-Span Book TV. Maybe there could have been more.

    When Joe Tachovsky and I wrote 40 Thieves on Saipan, folks who discovered I was co-writing a World War II history book had many questions. Some would follow me to share personal stories about uncles or grandparents who served in the war. I handed out business cards like a realtor at an active open house.

    Response is less enthusiastic about freelance work and falls dramatically into the same interest zone of talking about high school dance competitions in a gathering of day traders when I share that I write contemporary fiction. “Anything I’d recognize” is a standard response or its companion “Would my wife recognize your books?” If lucky, someone asks how you think up your stories and a brief conversation opens. 

    It’s probably fair.  Social media, family, sports, travel take a lot of time. Bumping into a writer is kind of like listening to a bar band. If they don’t know how to play your favorite song, you disengage. 

    Anonymity isn’t limited to B list writers. Years ago, I stood next to a crowd growing around a hotel counter at a major conference. Voices were rising as news spread that the staff did not recognize Nikki Giovanni when she attempted to check in without a reservation. Giovanni, who died in 2024, was one of the world’s best-known African American poets and someone who spoke out on social issues. But chances are mixed that that reservationist was one of the 50% of Americans who read at least one book a year and even more minute that she was in the 12% who read poetry.

    Some days a writer may as well talk with their characters, cause few other people are paying attention. But I wouldn’t stop working just because of that. 

  • I Like to Laugh

    Valentine’s Day dance

    I like to laugh. Uproariously. I like to banter. When words or actions touch my heart, I like to cry. I savor conversations that lead me to your spirit and you to mine. I want to feel safe.

    Jody and I found a welcoming community where we belong. Our spirits, the essence of who we are, no longer need to be hidden. Our sense of being different has melted away. We fit.

    On our arrival, several Minnesotans stopped by our RV lot, gave us a dern-tootin’, you betcha Minnesooota hello. “Dun-chya-no, dere’s a dance dis evening at the clubhouse. Yah. Yah. You wanna come wid?”

    Shortly after we met a lady walking her dog. After chatting, we realized we had found ourselves a dog sitter.

    Winter games, one week of competitive fun play, started the day after our arrival. Variations of ping pong, billiards, shuffleboard, bocce ball, corn hole, mind games and kids’ games kept us busy from morning to night. Over 120 community members participated. All organized by volunteers.

    The Resort encompasses fifty acres and features 278 homes and RV lots. Many overlook freshwater lakes, conservation areas and preserves.

    What’s not to like?

    The Resort is a predominately lesbian, gated community.

    I wondered what our son and daughter would think of us owning an RV lot here. Would they feel welcomed? Would friends, relatives, nieces and nephews, want to visit? How would I feel living 24/7 in a community of women? Was I essentially gating myself from the outside ‘real’ world? Was I labeling myself a lesbian? (I hate labels).

    These questions bothered me. I listened to my body. Paid attention to how I felt when joining activities, walking the dogs, and visiting residents. Jody and I discussed on many occasions the path that brought us here.

    What I like most about The Resort is the feeling of acceptance regardless of age, body size, clothes style, or how you look. Friendliness awaits as soon as you step out of your house or RV. Waving Hi, saying hello, is natural and expected. The Resort is safe. I can be myself. I can have meaningful conversations.

    My unease finally came to rest when I determined that Jody and I did well for ourselves. The Resort is a wonderful resting place for our spirits. We enjoy the camaraderie and budding friendships. What matters most is that it is a place for us.  It’s a home where we are comfortable and laugh often.

    8 responses to “I Like to Laugh”

    1. Amanda Le Rougetel Avatar

      Landing in a place that is ‘home’ is a wonderful feeling. I’m glad you’re there. Enjoy!

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Amen!

    2. Ann Helm Avatar
      Ann Helm

      Wonderful, Beth and Jody!

      Ann

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Thank you, Ann. Hope you and Scott are doing well!

    3. Ellen Shriner Avatar

      I love the photo!

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Thanks, Ellen.

    4. Eliza Waters Avatar

      So glad you have found a place that makes your heart sing!

      1. Elizabeth di Grazia Avatar
        Elizabeth di Grazia

        Thank you, Eliza. This morning I paused to listen to birds singing. Filled with gratitude for being here.


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