I don't read just one book at a time. I have several going on at once. Right now it's Plan B, In Our Time, and In the Name of the World. This is not including Portnoy's Complaint and The Art of War, which are on my Droid Kindle. I downloaded those several months ago now in a fit of ambition. But reading on a phone, well... I should have known.
I have a hard time finishing books once I start them, but I usually do, eventually. This might seem odd for a writer, but I'm not only a writer, I'm too many other things, and the truth is I don't have many opportunities to sit down for more than an hour and focus on one thing. My life and mental energy is scattered and shared between multiple jobs, responsibilities, and the logistics of parenting five children, including driving them to and from two different schools during the day, helping them with homework, taking them to do stuff, feeding them, etc.
Not a complaint, just reality. But it causes me to get several reads going and then to misplace them. One may be in the bathroom, the other by the side of my bed, the third in my backpack. Or they may all be in my backpack. Or one might be in my car, another down the side of the bed, and the third hidden under the toddler's Thomas the Tank Engine train table.
As a result I do not always have the book I want to read right in front of me. This is frustrating. But if I just have SOMETHING to read in front of me when I want to read, I'm OK. The important thing, I tell myself, is that I keep reading. It's true I'm probably cheating myself of the full value of digesting a single book in a week's time, which used to be normal for me. But it's better than nothing.
