Reading Challenge

For reasons I cannot disclose because my Geek Card has been threatened, I’m reading. A lot.
In fact, before April, I’m to read 160 young adult books, all published within only this year.
If you divide 160 by the alarmingly small number of months between today and then, that’s a whole lotta readin’. Weekly average: like what, 4 or 5? I’m no mathematician; that’s why I’ve been self-actualized enough to jump ship on numbers and swim toward words, which aren’t mean to me. Numbers are evil.
And 160 seems like a real villain.
Challenge accepted; books are stacked in two piles, one being “To Read” and the oh-so-much-smaller-one dubbed “Read!” And yes, the exclamation point is imperative.
Because oh my, I’m earning it, people. Earning that exclamation point.
I love reading, don’t get me wrong, but the innocent duress I feel when I’m turning pages is suffocating. There’s always that bigger pile, looming, daring me to take one from the stack.
I didn’t realize how much YA novels have in common, either, until I saddled myself with a load of them.
I LIKE YA, don’t get me wrong. I really do. But suddenly new releases in the Adult category that I never would have given the time of day are appealing to me. Only because they can’t have me; that’s why they chant. And I don’t want them, not really.
Ours is a freaky relationship.
Anyway, now that you know the whip goading me on, I’ll be sharing in book chat form, so that you, too, might read one or two of these and share your opinion with me.
I need the chat, the back and forth, the sharing. Because I’m knee deep in this rabbit hole and it feels lonely. And the sides are caving in. And I have no food…aw, who am I kidding?
Me? Without food??
Bah. Never gonna happen.

Southern Titles to Read this Year — I have a list

Today — less than an hour ago, in fact — I acquired a list of books written by Southern authors, and I have challenged myself to read all items on the list.
The list enumerates 18 books, so my “one a month” theory is gone. (Librarians stink at math, but even I, illiterate in math, know I have 12 months each year in which to read.)
Thus, I changed “one a month” to “one every three weeks” but ‘cept I have to read one a week for the last three weeks — no matter that it’s the middle of the Christmas season (I’ll have loads of extra time; always do; I read best under pressure) — but we’re now firmly ensconced within the fourth week of the year, so one hour in, I’m already a week behind in my self-applied challenge.
And while finding copies of the shortest of the Southern Titles list to read quickly so as to get back on track with my challenge, I found 44 more books I want to read.
Which kind of pushed my self-inflicted reading-palooza out the door…
So now my NEW challenge for this, the second hour, is to get myself back on track for my FIRST challenge.
Whew. I’m exhausted and I haven’t even swiped a page.

“Why a SEAHORSE?” you might wonder…because my favorite author was a Southern writer who wrote often of the beach, the water, the tide…don’t remember him mentioning a seahorse, but they’re such perfect critters that I’m sure he thought fondly of them. And I thought fondly of him. Thus, the seahorse.
Makes perfect sense.