The classics reading hasn’t quite started yet. I have a rather strange relationship with books. If I’m reading one that I enjoy, I feel obligated to finish it before moving on to another one. Almost like I don’t want to cheat on my current read.
I used to be worse. Years ago I would feel the same way about a book even if I didn’t enjoy it. I had this sense that if I started it, regardless of how awful it was, I had to finish it. For me, beginning a book was a commitment, even when I feel mentally abused by the abhorrent use of the English language. Thankfully I’ve learned to walk away from those non-remorseful literary partners.
I’m really enjoying the book that I’m reading now, which is why I haven’t started reading any classics yet. I’m reading “What Would Buffy Do: The Vampire Slayer as Spiritual Guide.” I’m enjoying it so much, I can’t bring myself to have an affair with another book.
Yes, when it comes to reading, I’m a serial monogamist.