2022 was a whirlwind of adventure, both in my reading and in my personal life.
I didn’t meet my reading goal, but I sure had a good time trying.
I survived 45 thrillers, fell in love roughly fifty times, read over 30,000 pages, and DNFed a record 20 books.
I learned about honey bees, yelled at a whole lot of characters, found myself trapped on several islands, and challenged myself to read a non-fiction a month.
While the pages of my book took me to Cuba and London and countless city streets, in real life we traveled to Las Vegas, Mexico, Tennessee, and Canada.
I flew on over 40 planes, had my bags lost three times, found a favorite airport bookstore (Compass in SFO) and relocated to a tiny, rural town in northern British Columbia.
I read in planes, trains, boats, and taxis, at more than ten hotels, inside too many airport terminals, and sent my girlfriend, CeCe, countless crying selfies admitting to public book-induced tears.
I spent a lot of this year far away from family, friends, my love, and our dogs, but am learning to embrace and appreciate more the times we get to be together.
I got to watch as friends who rarely read started picking up books, happily discovering that my Bookstagram page isn’t just for book friends, but for all friends.
It was a full year, with ups and downs, and I’m taking its lessons with me into 2023.
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Who knows what 2023 will deliver me, but I’m excited for this next journey. CeCe and I already have our next two trips booked, so don’t worry, there’ll be more airplane reading and tears to come!
0/100 📚 starts January 1
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