Posted by: charityliz | April 25, 2012

maybe reading just isn’t for me…

I hate to admit it, but I’m not a big reader– especially when it comes to novels. For whatever reason, I just can’t get into them. I think it’s mostly because I’d rather spend my free time actually doing something. Sitting to read a book for hours requires such patience! So most of my "pleasure reading" comes in the form of audio books (because I can do something while listening) and self-help or human & spiritual development books or articles (because I can do something as a result of reading).

But every once in awhile (about once a year) I get the hankering to actually read a good novel. This time it was at the airport before boarding my flight to Paris a few weeks back. I browsed the book stand looking for the perfect story to keep my interest while also inspiring me in some way. I decided on Little Bee, a best seller about a young Nigerian refugee and a middle class British woman, and how their lives converge in a powerful way– with themes of heartache, redemption and social commentary on current international events. The perfect novel for me!

I read quite a bit on my flights to and from Paris, enjoying the story and conceding to the fact that I had nothing better to do while sitting on a 10+ hour flight. Note: while I realize many of my friends could finish at least three novels in this time, I must confess that "quite a bit of reading" to me is 20+ pages in one sitting, before getting bored and/or restless. So I got through about 100 pages on the trip.

When I returned home, life got busy as usual and my reading time was squeezed out…until one evening last week. I went to bed early just to curl up with Little Bee, looking forward to letting the story take me to another place before falling asleep. Around page 110, I was enjoying myself so much, I actually took a moment to stop and remark to myself, "This is so nice and relaxing! I need to do this more often!….maybe I’m turning a new page in life and finally becoming a novel reader after all!" I turned a few more pages, eating it up as I went. And right as I was getting to what I think may have been the beginning of the most tragic and riveting part of the story, I turn from page 116 and suddenly nothing makes sense– no joke. The sentence was off and the whole story made no sense. And I quickly realized that I was suddenly on page 147. Yes–the one novel I had selected to read, was missing pages 117 through 146!!! The book was in mint condition and brand new when I bought it, and looking it over again, I was shocked on how a book could actually be published and also be missing a whole chunk of pages?? Why do I feel like this kind of thing only happens to me? Now what do I do?

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Responses

  1. I think I’d take it down to a quality bookstore, and I bet they can give you store credit to buy another one. This is a publishing error.

    btw… what a drag!! I can relate to not being a die-hard novel reader, and this would take the cake! Possibly a sign from God that it is okay not to like novels? đŸ˜‰

  2. Weird! And so very annoying. I tried to read that book and it made me feel sad and weird. I miss reading so much! I’m too tired these days!!


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