This week I FINALLY read a novel (Where the Crawdad’s Sing by Delia Owens). I have no problem buying novels, starting novels, and buying more novels but I have a huge problem finishing them. Usually, my kids are a big reason since it’s very difficult to carve out time for sustained reading and I usually tumble into bed exhausted each night.
As I cried my way through parts of Owens’ novel, feeling my heart swell and break like the waves in the marsh, I reflected that my inability to complete novels may also be due to an unconscious desire to protect myself from feeling too deeply. When I studied English in university I didn’t mind summoning all the feelings and would often even pick poems and novels specifically TO have a cathartic cry.
There are some books that are on my list of “books that make me cry”. These include:Read more