It has taken almost 30 years since I learned my ABC's, but I am saying for the very first time that I love to read. Maybe it's shocking for those who thought that me being labelled a brainiac or a nun (ah, high school memories) meant I was a bookworm. Throughout high school and university I struggled with engaging in anything I was assigned to read. And then there never seemed to be enough time to enjoy reading for leisure. Then two winters ago, during a very quiet two month temp assignment, I read Angels and Demons and The DaVinci Code. It was great getting so into it that I almost did a Joey and threw the books in the freezer a few times. And then, again, life seemed to get too busy. Since then I was only reading short and sweet self-help, motiviational shadows of books. Then my sister got me an enormous, life-changing book for my birthday and ever since, I've matured into someone who completely appreciates the beauty and power of the written word.

So I joined a book club. I think there are five of us, and we'll be meeting in the next two months to talk about our first book. I have to confess that I still have to purchase the book this week (we decided on it months ago), but I haven't been this excited about reading a novel in ages.