pwned by a 93-year-old
I was very proud of myself that I read 19 (and actually more like 21) books last year. That's pretty good for me; I probably should be reading more, but I'd gotten out of the habit of having a book going all the time and more than a book a month was good progress.
Mentioned that to my 93-year-old aunt, who reads constantly, and asked her how many books she had read. She didn't know, she'd have to count them up (she writes down the title and author of each book she finishes in a notebook). She did so. How many books, you ask, did this elderly woman read in 2011?
253.
You read that right. TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY THREE. She was so pleased at my reaction she's counting up the books she read in 2010, when she was healthier and therefore had more time when she felt like reading.
A few years back, she proudly reminded me, she'd read 370-something books in one year. Do not doubt that number. Now, granted, often she re-reads books she loves, books she's read several to dozens of times, and short older paperbacks. But they're still books, and she still reads every bloody word, and she's constantly buying new books. 11/23/63 by Stephen King is propped up on her couch right now (in large print, it's an encyclopedia-sized tome). Last year she finished the doorstop titled Juliet, and the entire numbered series of Janet Evanovich books (Sizzlin' Seventeen et al). So it's not like she's cruising through tri-fold brochures and calling them novels. She's finishing a book in one to two days all year long.
I'm a piker. And she's amazing.
Mentioned that to my 93-year-old aunt, who reads constantly, and asked her how many books she had read. She didn't know, she'd have to count them up (she writes down the title and author of each book she finishes in a notebook). She did so. How many books, you ask, did this elderly woman read in 2011?
253.
You read that right. TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY THREE. She was so pleased at my reaction she's counting up the books she read in 2010, when she was healthier and therefore had more time when she felt like reading.
A few years back, she proudly reminded me, she'd read 370-something books in one year. Do not doubt that number. Now, granted, often she re-reads books she loves, books she's read several to dozens of times, and short older paperbacks. But they're still books, and she still reads every bloody word, and she's constantly buying new books. 11/23/63 by Stephen King is propped up on her couch right now (in large print, it's an encyclopedia-sized tome). Last year she finished the doorstop titled Juliet, and the entire numbered series of Janet Evanovich books (Sizzlin' Seventeen et al). So it's not like she's cruising through tri-fold brochures and calling them novels. She's finishing a book in one to two days all year long.
I'm a piker. And she's amazing.