Life In Lockdown - Whither Reading?

I love reading. I always have, ever since I was able to, way, way back in the dim and distant past (things weren’t in black and white as such but they definitely had that sort of muted sepia tinge to them). In the equally dim and distant days of early 2020 when I used to leave the house and spend time on trains or waiting around in pubs and stuff, I was averaging two novels per week. This isn’t meant to sound braggy, by the way (“oooh, look at him with all his reading”); I love books and I’ve got a massive backlog I want to get through (it basically consists of “all the books”) so I spend a lot of time reading.

That all ground to a halt six weeks ago when I stopped leaving the house. It was really weird. I genuinely thought the complete opposite would happen. I’d always assumed that, if I was told I couldn’t leave the house, I’d be nose-buried within books from Minute One until I was let outside again. “At last,” thought pre-Covid I, “that pile of books to be read will be demolished.”

I tried. I started three different books and got about 10-20 pages in before my attention would wander. I just couldn’t focus on them. Television and films have become the main distraction (as has become blatantly clear if you've even glanced in the direction of this blog in the last six weeks) and, even then, I can sometimes only focus on them by having defined lists of stuff I’m working through and taking notes for blog posts to force me to concentrate on something. I’ve also been fine with comics. Having the words accompanied by pictures seems to work fine (especially if they're ones that I’ve read before - even if that was nearly thirty years ago).

Something shifted yesterday though. Having realised I’d not actually been outside for about five days and thinking that probably some vitamin D would be a good idea before bone loss sets in, I eschewed the usual pile of graphic novels and set off outside with a pile of very slim books. I picked one up, I sat, I read and, by the end of the day, had read three (very short) books and started on a fourth (regular length) one.

It’s funny for that to feel like an accomplishment. If you said to Me From Three Months Ago that I would very shortly be feeling pleased to have completed an extremely short book, I’d have definitely looked at you funny. Just shows how quickly we adapt and change to situations, how soon something can become the new normal.

Will it last? I hope so but, equally, I won't be surprised if it doesn't (maybe even by the time this is published). If anything, these things seem to come and go in waves. For now, though, I’ll take it as a small lockdown victory - if that’s what helps you get through, take the victories where you can.