Hello, my name is Jessie and I’m a bookaholic…

I briefly mentioned this in my prior post and it is very true.  I adore reading.  Assuming I did it right (seeing as I am new to the blog-world), you should start to see my book reviews pop up between posts.

I started reading from a very young age.  I absolutely loved meeting new people and going on adventures in real life... so why not in my books?  My interest took me through an array of typical children, pre-teen and teen books.  I read my fair share of Dr. Seuss, pick-your-own-adventure stories, Ramona Quimby, Sweet Valley High, Goosebumps... you get the gist.  My mom, also a reader, would frequent a used bookstore in our area.  I would tag along as she would sell a bag of books, get credit, and shop for new ones.  I would get lost wandering among the shelves of books, imagining what world lived between the pages. I was always allowed to get a few books and I could never wait to get home and read them.

Then, with high school, came summer reading lists and mandatory reading in English Lit classes.  Due to my busy schedule with extracurricular activities and such, my time became limited.  Since I wasn’t wholly interested in what I was being forced to read, the pace was slow and I was left with little time to read for pleasure.  Soon enough I moved onto other interests and then college came and went.

After graduation and getting a “real” job, I was faced with my new norm … the 8-hour workday.  I learned a lot with that job (we will go there one day) and not all of it was work-related.  Lesson One:  What do you do with a one-hour lunch break in the middle of the day when you are stranded too far from home to actually go home?  It means that you need to come up with something to do.  After spending WAY too much money on going out to eat and coming up with “errands” to run (what shopping habit?), I figured it would be wise to start bringing my lunch to prevent me from spending. 

Here’s the thing, my first job’s excuse for a break room was pathetic.  NO ONE ate in there.  In fact getting coffee was almost intolerable.  It was, literally, a closet that they crammed a table, a mini-fridge topped with a coffee pot and filing cabinets into.  There was barely enough room to pull out a chair, much less relax for an hour.  Because of this, everyone tended to just sit in their respective cars.

Since I had already established that I couldn’t consciously squander my paycheck on the $12-a-day-for-lunch habit, or the more expensive I-went-to-Target-for-light-bulbs-and-came-out-with-this-great-shirt habit, I adjusted to the brown-bag-in-the-car habit.  You make think that sounds pitifully sad but, to tell you the truth, I learned to covet those 60 minutes each day.  It was the time when that I didn’t have to talk to anyone, pretend to care or answer questions.  If you ever meet me you will know that I am a people person.  But I am the type of people person that needs complete solitude to recharge.

After a week or so of just sitting there, people watching and listening to music, I realized I needed more.  I was a little bored.  It dawned on me that I could use that time to read this book my friend was hounding me to read.  Enter… the Harry Potter series.

Okay.  One of two things just happened when you read that.  You either went “Greeeeeat here’s another full grown adult that’s going to rant about how amazing that stupid kid's book is and how I just must read it. Bleeeeeck” or you just went ”YES!”.  Let’s just say I started in group one and then, afterwards, moved my way into group two.  And although I do completely enjoy the series, I am NOT a Potterhead.  I am very grateful though to my friend for pushing that series on me because it was a great re-entry into the world of bookworms.  It was fast and addictive and soon, instead of counting down the minutes until I had to go back into work, I was counting the number of pages I could cram into my hour.

So I sped through seven years worth of Hogwarts … and then I just kept on going.  I read anything and everything I could get my hands on.  I had finally found my escape!  I now had the ability to find my solace in the middle of the day with or without people around!  **Now you’re probably wandering “How can she do that?  I thought she said she had to be alone?”  Well this is how.  When I read a book (of course we need to assume it’s a good one) I get completely lost in the words on the page.  I zone in so much that I can tune out most anything around me and live inside my book and my imagination.  It’s blissful.**

About two years later I came upon a site called goodreads.com.  Although I loved reading, I wasn’t sure if I was like “those” people.  I read for pure enjoyment and that was it.  What did I even have to contribute to the book world?  Are they going to make fun of me?  What if I don’t use the right terminology?  Well it took a while but I eventually got over my I’m-not-a-literary-genius-or-even-an-English-major attitude and decided that I, the book lover, have a valuable opinion and to just go for it.

Well there was no turning back.  Now the site is part of the ritual.  I get a book, post that I am reading it, finish reading it, post that I read it and write up a review.  I have gotten positive feedback on some of my reviews thus far and it is so encouraging!

So (as usual), a long story short is that you will see my book reviews pop up.  Feel free to read them and comment!  Trust me when I say there are books out there for everyone!  So if you think reading is a chore or a way to get out of them... pick one up anyways and tell me what you think.  I am always looking for suggestions and maybe you, too, will drink the Kool-aid that is books.

And so it begins...

It’s funny how some things seem so important that you have to take action immediately, in that very moment, and then life happens and it falls unnoticed by the wayside. That is basically the story of how this blog was born.  I was inspired (like so many others) to write a book.  What I failed to acknowledge is the fact that an avid reader, a writer does not make.

I blueprinted my whole story that weekend.  I began mental relationships with a few of my main characters.  I outlined their lives and spun a web I could then lose myself whilst untangling it.  Then it happened.  Something else grabbed my attention for a second too long and, before I knew it, the moment had passed.  I realized the error of my ways and then decided to approach the idea “in a methodical, meticulous sense”.  So I started a blog so that I could practice the daily ritual of writing, all the while fleshing my book ideas out.  That was four months ago.

You see that’s my problem. The “methodical, meticulous sense” part.  I’m a planner.  I’m organized.  I work very hard at having a perfect life "bubble" at all times.  Some people may think this would be bothersome but I embrace that part of me.  So while my left-brain glories in my organizational skills and my ability to make decisions, my right-brain pouts in the corner. Sometimes I truly feel like a walking contradiction.

What do I mean?  Well it’s a long story but I’m afraid I need to start from the beginning…

When I was young I was organized, but not so much so that it drew attention to me.  My stuffed animals were always lined up perfectly and my room never became too messy but, honestly, the average joe would most likely attribute it to scrupulous parents more than their obsessive daughter.  But while my messes were tamer than average, my imagination was not.

I have always had a flare for the dramatic.  Maybe it’s the red hair.  Maybe it’s the Irish-Italian heritage.  I’m not sure what caused it but there is no questioning I have it.  I discovered the stage early.  I danced first and then moved on to theater.  I loved the attention, I loved the costumes and I loved being lost in a character whom I found way more interesting than myself.  In high school I became the president of our high school theatre company for two years which led me to earn a scholarship for college. 

Ah, college.  It is the point in a young person’s life where they must make life-altering decisions without the qualifications of experience and knowledge to do so.  The voices around me encouraged the “doctor/lawyer/indian chief” route so I could “make real money and have stability”.  Needless to say, the day I set off to get my Bachelor’s in Finance and Marketing was the day I kissed a blissfully artistic life goodbye. 

It didn’t go quietly in the night.  There was a little kicking and screaming along the way in the form of community theatre.  My business classes didn’t allow room for art classes, but I tried anyways.  As fun as it was I just couldn’t maintain the pace.  Priorities shifted and I found myself nurturing my left-sided-ness and ignoring my right.

Looking back, I don’t regret it.  The economy tanked about the time I graduated, I was engaged to my wonderful husband and I made no plans to leave the vicinity of my hometown.  With those factors at hand, I would have never made a dime and moving home was not an option.  Four years later, I have a stable job and a quiet life.  Quiet enough for me to hear the faint whines of my right-brain demanding attention.  It says it's cramped.  It says it's bored.  It says it wants room to roam and, really, who am I to deny it?

So here we are.  Full circle.  A way for me to ease back into acknowleding ideas and letting them live a little. This shall be my outlet.  It’s my virtual story board.  A place for me to map out where I want to go and what I want to do.  The only theme to this is me.  I just hope that’s enough.