Once upon a time, there was a bookworm, the most voracious of bookworms who read anything and everything but especially love stories for the bookworm was truly in love with love.
The bookworms appetite knew no bounds. It would regularly inhale a full length novel in a single sitting and then immediately seek out the next.
Over time, however, the bookworms life changed.
The bookworm graduated from university and got a job. The job limited the bookworm's reading hours but ultimately didn't put much of a dent in the reading schedule; It just kept it to one book a day on work days.
As life progressed, the bookworm had a child and this further reduced the bookworms capacity for reading but only temporarily for before long the bookworm was back at work and there was reading time available after the baby went to bed. Plus, having a child opened up a whole new realm of books for the bookworm to explore... A whole new section of the bookstore!
Then, a few years ago, the bookworm switched into her current job. It was a great opportunity for the bookworm professionally but the pressures of the job took their toll on her, as did a chronic illness.
Overtime, the bookworm stopped reading.
The bookworm never lost her love of books, nor did she lose her desire to read but she just... Couldn't. Nothing held the bookworms interest anymore. Long novels, short novels, romance novels, fantasy novels, factual books: The bookworm tired them all.
Nothing brought back the happy absorption the bookworm used to feel.
Overtime, the bookworm became very sad and gave up the things that mattered most to her. The bookworm deleted her book blog and she stopped trying to read for herself and the only reading the bookworm partook of was reading to her son before bed.
They say that nothing lasts forever and for the bookworm this proves true for the bookworm wants to read again.
This blog is a place for the bookworm to find herself as a reader once more. The bookworm's list of unread, but purchased, books is long.
The bookworm is positive her TBR will grow even longer when she discovers all the treasures she's missed.
The bookworm is, of course, me.
