I grew up in a loving house with a mom and a dad, 3 sisters, one brother, one cat, one rabbit, and one cockatiel. One by one, each sibling moved out and got married, each animal passed away, my parents grew older and I grew up.  Being the youngest, by far, I was naturally the last one living at home.  In my younger years, both of my parents  worked, so when they would come home, they would make dinner, watch a little tv, and then it was off to an early bedtime.  Each night my parents would take turns reading to me from a book of my choice.  Once I entered my tween and teen years, I insisted I would read on my own, instead of being read to like a baby.  I would spend my afternoons and summertime up in my tree house or under the covers in my bed reading books.  Lots of them.  It was my goal one summer to read one book a week all summer.  I read through every Nicholas Sparks, J.D. Sallinger, John Steinbeck, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Jodi Picoult book available.

Then as I grew older, the time set aside for reading was replaced with sleepovers, late-night study sessions, movies, and parties.

Now, it seems the time for reading has been replaced by work, free wi-fi, Facebook, Words with Friends, coffee breaks, shopping trips, and my iPod.  Not that any of those things are bad, but sometimes I just wish I had a little more time to enjoy the feel of vintage pages or the smell of a new book.  The feeling of being transported somewhere exciting or exotic or romantic can be the perfect remedy for a stressful schedule.

So here’s my idea (Sorry, I know it took a long time to get to the point):

Starting today I am going to read 1 book a week for the rest of the summer (I’m going with Labor Day, Sept. 6th).  This gives me 6 weeks to read 6 books.

Here are the books (thanks to the suggestions by my wonderful Twitter followers):

What books would you recommend for future reads?

Images courtesy of 1.

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