How I Got Here

As I approach this review journal and reflect on my reviewing history I came to a realization that seems very “Duh.” to me.


As an adult, the cycle of reading for me has changed. The process of being intrigued by a story, to hesitantly reading the first few paragraphs, to diving into a chapter and to step back and review it is less magical.

I look at my past I am amused at it's carefree voice. Is it inexperience perhaps?

Time, age, and knowledge that has moved me from there to here? A part of me wants to reach out and recapture that youthful abandon I had towards reading stories, but the adult in me stays my hand because it knows.

Continue reading by selecting the link below
Time is different as you get older.

I know we hear that constantly as we actually age (usually from someone older than us) and we kind of nod and move right along but... it is true. The time I had in high school is not comparable to the time I had in college. It's also nothing like the time I had two years ago or three months from now. Time as an adult is always running out and always changing. The joy of being a teen or young adult is the consistency.

And as I stepped onto the boat of adulthood, I've done nothing but ride the waves and been tossed to and fro. As a teen, forced organization and scheduling kept me on track. As a independent adult, the freedom of having no restrictions on my time or my money – well – like most kids I ran with it.

So here I am.

And it's still the same, but not. And I still have no time, but plenty of time if I really think about it. The stories are still there, waiting.


I just need to reach out and take it.