Last Christmas break, I was able to read 4 novels that my sister lent me. They were all relatively easy to read and you could even say they were books fit for a teen.
I first finished “My Teacher Glows in the Dark” by Bruce Covelle. It was not very satisfying for me because there were a lot of questions left unanswered, normal for books that belong to a series. I wanted to read the next one but I didn’t have any access to it so I read the second book of the pile.
The science fiction fantasy books by Madeleine L’Engle came next. I read “A Wrinkle in Time” followed by “A Wind in the Door”,
and lastly, “A Swiftly Tilting Planet”.
All three were marvelous. Aside from being simply worded, the message for each book was clearly conveyed. After all these four good reads, I now come to “The Lord of the Flies”. I have not finished reading the book. In fact, I’ve been setting it aside for a while now because I have lost interest in reading it. And the thought of losing my interest is saddening because I had told myself to start reading again after having not done so, voluntarily, for about four long years.
How then, shall I resolve this matter? What is stopping me from picking up that book and leafing through its pages? Is it school work? Laziness? The internet? Perhaps the availability of other things to do is an answer but that never stopped me before. Why do I refuse to bury myself in a book? What is so wrong with being six feet under a good sensible book?