Permission to Read

On the Puritan work ethic, a fidgety brain and holiday reading.

‘There is nothing like abandoning yourself to an entire book for the day, only stopping to eat and look up occasionally and remind yourself where you are.’ Kit de Waal

Photo by Jubéo Hernandez on Unsplash

Kit has been on holiday and tells us here on Notes that she has been averaging a book a day. Could you do that? Abandon yourself to a book for a whole day? Even half a day?

I can’t. I don’t think I’ve ever tried.

What’s at play here when I love reading and get a satisfied glow somewhere deep in my solar plexus from good prose and a finished book? When I know that reading will make me a better writer. When I don’t have kids at home anymore, nor do I have to go out to work.

So why can’t I give myself permission to read?

Brain like a pinball machine

I have a book on my bedside table, at the moment it’s Helm by Sarah Hall. It’s outrageously good, and I treat myself to half an hour’s reading every morning. However, one chapter is all I can manage before my mind is pulled to other things: my elderly father and checking in on him, whatever marketing post I’m creating to promote my work and author brand, and engaging with the writing community (indie authors have to work especially hard at this). I also have a neurodivergent brain, ideas flinging themselves around like a ball in a pinball machine.

This morning I challenged myself to two chapters. I did it, but that was enough, and I was compelled to head off for my cold shower. My dopamine levels are low first thing, and the reading of a chapter and then a cold shower set me back on track, but there’s no way I would linger in the duvet and read any more.

I wonder, is it just ADHD and a fidgety brain, or my inability to leave my phone in another room, or is something else at play? I know, as a writer, how important it is to read, how we absorb good dialogue, imagery, scene setting, characterisation, from others’ writing, but something is blocking me in my ability to hand even half a day, let alone a whole day, over to reading.

What holds us back?

In 2019, I went to Newcastle University to do the MA in Creative Writing and acquired many of the texts on the big, long reading lists. You’d think that this ‘work’, reading for my course, would have permitted me to read, but no. Something held me back, and I only allowed myself to sit in the chair and read after 3pm, by which time, the pull to nap becomes too strong and ‘I’m going to sit in my chair and read’ becomes code for ‘I’m going for a Nana nap.’

My daughter is the manager of a Waterstone’s store and reads a phenomenal amount of books. I ring here on her days off, and hear that she’s been reading in bed, or in the garden in the morning sun, and I try not to judge, to think about her kids’ needs, the housework and the piles of washing that will no doubt be piling up around her. I’m actually really envious of her ability to put reading high up on her list of important things to do. I feel guilty if I read when there’s other work to be done.

Is it the Puritan work ethic?

I believe it’s the Puritan work ethic at play here. Somewhere, deep in my being, I have inherited the belief that to work is godly, and to lie around reading is lazy and therefore ungodly. It’s only after all the chores are done, the house is clean and tidy, and the work is done, that reading is allowed. I’m fine with writing, that feels like work, but reading? That’s a whole different ball game.

I want to read more, give myself over to hours absorbed in a book, but it’s a work in progress. I’d love to know if anyone else feels the same or if anyone has any ideas on how to fling this Puritan work ethic out of the window.

Holiday reading

Ah, a holiday, when reading should become easier. We’re off on our travels in the campervan soon. We’ve six weeks in between ferries, arriving in Dieppe with a loose plan to travel south through France (calling in on Feasts and Fables and JoJo Thomson), heading over the Pyrenees and exploring the Asturias and Picos de Europa (last visited 30 years ago). The forecast is iffy for the first week, so will I give myself permission to read then? Or will we have to go for a walk or a bike ride first? Can I make reading the priority of the day, or will it be something we only do in the evenings, when we’re bored with playing Scrabble in the van?

Here’s the pile of books I’ve smuggled into the van. Will I read them all?

I’ll report back.

Have you read any of these? Where would you start?

I’m starting with Arundhati Roy and Mother Mary Comes to Me.

I’d love to hear your take on this.

• How do you prioritise reading?

• Can you only read on holiday?

• Is this Puritan work ethic part of your DNA?

• Do you have a neurodivergent brain that fizzes and whizzes and only allows a chapter or even paragraph at a time, or can you, like Kit, give yourself over to reading and become totally absorbed in a book?

• Do join the chat in the comments below.

  

  Thanks for reading!