The Mess of Reading a Lot of Books at Once

I've noticed that many of my reader friends, and particularly my teacher friends, tend to have many books going at once. I generally prefer to read one book at a time, but those of you who are friends with me on GoodReads know that I am currently "reading" 4 books. While I am not actively reading all of these books, they all contain some sort of bookmark and beckon me to sit down with them and finish flipping through their pretty pages.

I apologize to all of my Chicago loving friends and others who just couldn't put this book down, but I had a hard time not falling asleep or losing interest and I slogged through the Devil in the White City. I'm about half way through this book, which I bought because it looked interesting, had gotten a lot of praise from friends and was chosen by the book club comprised of my friends from the past in CO. Frankly, I'm just not that into architecture. Pages and pages of descriptions of a landscaper stressing about what kind of tree to plant just don't really hold my interest. The murders and the psychopath guy are pretty interesting, though. It reminds me of an episode of Dexter or Criminal Minds (two of my favorite shows).

I do recognize, however, that I currently have no patience for fiction. So perhaps my frustration with Devil in the White City is a result of my impatience. Sometimes fiction just needs patience, and requires you to immerse yourself in a made-up world, instead of requiring you to engross yourself in real facts.

I went through a big fiction/coming-of-age-in-other-lands phase a bit ago, where I devoured books set in China, Japan, India, 100 years ago, 1000 years ago or yesterday. One of my favorites was The Blood of Flowers. I had a teeterng stack of such books on my desk, and a running list of everything I wanted to read. Getting me to put in to a non-fiction book was like asking me to watch water boil. So not worth my time.

And then sometime around Christmas, I started picking up books about nutrition. I'd read Eating Animals over a year ago, which prompted my final commitment to vegetarianism (instead of just meat avoidance, which I'd practiced since I was about 17). I received Omnivore's Dilemma for Christmas, and read through that pretty quickly. I think that's what started my dive into reading anything and everything non-fiction I could get my hands onto.

Taking a break from books about food (there are only so many times you can have your heart wrenched out and you mind blown by facts that throw the way you were raised on end), I sped through a few memoirs. I LOVE memoirs. One of my advisors referred to memoirs as "icky" and "bleck," when I mentioned a few I had on my reading list. His point was, "who cares? it's so self-indulgent." My response (in my head, as I'm practicing the skill of keeping my mouth shut in moments like these), was that I care. I am at that (horrible) point in my life known as the "20's," and I'm confused.

Everyone said that High School would be the time of my life (a really depressing statement, based on my high school experience), and then that college would be a hoot (ok, I had fun and learned a lot, but I'm not chomping at the bit to go back to working 4 jobs and studying on less than 4 hrs of sleep a night--no thanks!). So now I'm "in my 20's." Supposedly this means that I have nice skin (I honestly can't complain in that department, and that sample of kiehl's firming night lotion I got the other day? and my new vegan diet? definitely helping), plenty of energy and the whole world ahead of me.

I'm sure I'm commiting some sort of international crime by pointing out that this prospect is actually terrifying! And no, I'm not averse to change. I like growth (though I recognize it as a painful process). I accept and embrace change, heck-- how many other people do you know that decide one day "I'm going to live in Germany" for a year, and then in that year, travel to 6 different countries (even alone!), and then within a year of being back stateside decide to move halfway across the country without having seen the school she's enrolling in, having a job or a place to live? I love that kind of stuff, I get antsy if I sit still too long.

It's just that there are so many confusing role changes, decisions to be made, and things to figure out. And I am a nerd (if we haven't established that already, well...I hope we have). I read and I research and I analyse and I mull and I think and then I overthink some. So naturally, reading about other people and the decisions they've made and the thoughts they've thought and the feelings they've felt intrigues me.

My Aunti M. told me once that we often compare our insides to other people's outsides, and then we feel like we're really messed up and wrong. But if we took the time to (stop comparing) apples to oranges and just stuck with comparing two rotten apples, we'd see we're ok and we'd be able to move on with confidence that we're doing our best. So maybe by reading about people's internal rotten apples, I can prove to myself that thinking over 5 completely unrelated career goals in one day is not abnormal, or if it is, so what. And maybe I can see how people put together their current path, so I won't feel like I missed the trailhead and am doomed to wander amongst undergrowth. This has to be important, right??

But again, some memoirs actually are lame. Especially the ones written by people who can't actually write. Sometimes the wording and lack of varied sentence structure makes me want to take out my red pen (though I make no claims of being perfect, or writerly), but generally I still find them interesting. Enlightening, thought provoking, funny, charming, encouraging, inspiring. They get the juices flowing and I like it.

Somehow, reading about people's lives and the decisions they make naturally leads to wanting to know more about life so I can start making some decisions of my own. Enter the non-fiction. It started with (and is currently mostly comprised of) reading about birth and babies and midwives and hospital care in the US for mothers and infants. I thought I'd be trudging through this self-imposed assignment, but instead I find myself rivetted and absorbing more information that I ever thought I would! I think I may have found a passion, folks!

And now it all comes to a head. I'm reading Baby Catcher: Chronicles of a Modern Midwife, which is BOTH a memoir, AND a non-fiction book about birth. Talk about a perfect pairing for me. It's full of juicy stories about birth and running around in nighties in the middle of the night. I find myself glued to the pages at every description of a birth, each one so unique and miraculous in it's own special way, and yet related to an experience that every single person has had: being born. Can we just appreciate for a moment how cool that is? It also makes me contemplate my third career idea of the day: being a midwife. Thoughts?

I am also currently reading Birth By Design: Pregnancy, Maternity Care and Midwifery in North America and Europe, which contains parts written by my fellowship advisor. I must admit that when I first saw this (thick) book as he plucked it off his shelf and loaned it to me (on pain of death), I assumed it would be dry and boring and textbook like, filled with numbers and tables. It is filled with numbers, but I am also finding myself really interested. This book contains a lot of information, and I want to retain the numbers so I can speak more acurately about the issues raised in the book. This one is going to take some time to read, and sometimes I just want to whiz through a book in a few days. 

 I am also reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility, 10th Anniversary Edition: The Definitive Guide to Natural Birth Control, Pregnancy Achievement, and Reproductive Health. This one I keep hidden in plain sight on my desk filled with books about reproductive rights, the politics of birth control, patient rights and orgasmic birth (actually, that one's a DVD that I need to watch soon). This book is interesting because it talks about things I think we all should know, basic things about how our bodies function. Yet it covers information that I'm embarassed to say I never learned or that I allowed myself to gloss over in biology. And I even took a class devoted to fertility and fertility treatment! Anyway, I'm trying to use this book to both expand my understanding of myself and continue on my quest to stop putting crazy things into my body that keep me from feeling good, and to expand my knowledge base in case career option #2 comes up again: being a childbirth educator and/or doula.

Perhaps when I finish Baby Catcher, before I move on to something else I should finish up the other two birth related books. And then maybe give Devil in the White City another go...