I have other struggles. In fact, I've long thought about putting all my cards on the library table and telling you the truth:
I don't read books.
Or as I like to say at parties: I don't "read," you know, "books." Buy them, start them and almost never get to the end. But look, I'm not alone: "the crazy thing is that I maintain the belief that I'm still reading a book for many years as the pile of books I believe I'm reading piles up. One thing about reading on line -- especially reading to blog -- is that what you don't finish evanesces. Once the day has passed, you feel utterly absolved of any obligation to go back to anything."
This is like a weight lifted from my shoulders. And it has me wondering why, if reading habits are changing, do we have to make a value judgment about it? Maybe it's OK. Maybe books are to reading what opera is to music-listening. Maybe there's plenty of other rich reading experiences to go around.
Speaking of rich -- the September Vogue is here and I believe it now outweighs Anna Wintour herself. No one's finishing this thing.