Still men written by women. Just hockey players instead of High Lords. I didn’t realize I was in a reading slump until I wasn’t anymore. That’s the thing about genre fatigue — it doesn’t announce itself.  There’s no dramatic moment where you close a book and think, that’s it, I’m done. It’s subtler than that. It’s more like each book you pick up feels a little less electric than the last. The pages still turn, but something is missing. The spark you were chasing just isn’t there. For me, that genre was romantasy. I want to be clear: I love romantasy. Still do.  It gave me some of my favorite…

I have never been particularly tortured by the buy-vs-borrow debate.  For me, it has always been both, depending on the book, the mood, and honestly, how recently I visited a bookstore.  But when I started thinking about it more intentionally, I realized my reading life has a pretty consistent rhythm to it — about 60% buying and 40% borrowing — and that ratio didn’t happen by accident. It also made me think about something I had seen floating around bookish corners of the internet for a while: the Japanese concept of Tsundoku.  And once I had that word in my vocabulary, a lot of my book-buying habits suddenly made a…

(Or: How Leather & Lark temporarily destroyed my will to read) There’s a particular kind of reading misery that doesn’t get talked about enough, not the slump that creeps in slowly, not the one born from burnout or busyness, but the one that hits you fast and hard because a book you genuinely tried to like just… didn’t work. At all. And now you’re sitting there, surrounded by your beautiful TBR, and nothing sounds appealing because your reading brain is a little bruised. That’s exactly where I am right now, and I’m blaming Leather & Lark entirely. I don’t want to spend this post tearing that book apart, that review can…

January surprised me in a good way. After a long stretch of not reading much at all, I finished two books this month. Not rushed, not assigned, not out of obligation.  Just… read. One was a re-read of A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas, a book I already knew I loved.  The other was My Husband’s Wife by Alice Feeney, a psychological thriller that kept my attention in a very different way.  Both were audiobooks, which feels important to say out loud. (I am a firmly audiobooks count as reading girlie.) I’m still working on getting back into the habit of reading before bed, and some…

At the beginning of the year, I set a goal to read 60 books.  It felt optimistic and exciting, a version of myself I wanted to believe in.  The 60 book goal also felt realistic. The year before I had managed to read 27 books. So, picking 60 felt like a hefty (but doable) goal.  The year started out strong but as the year unfolded, my time, and energy shifted.  By the end of the year, I’d only read 23 books.  Not horrible under the circumstances, but nowhere near that 60 book goal.  Why I Changed My Goal Instead of feeling disappointed in myself, I changed the goal.  I adjusted…

I’ve always been the kind of reader who keeps moving forward.  As soon as I finish a book, I close it, jot down my thoughts, and reach for the next one on my ever-growing TBR.  Even when I love a story, the kind that leaves me with the biggest book hangover, I rarely go back.  There’s a sense of finality when I close a book: I’ve lived that story once, now it’s time to move on.  But lately, I’ve been feeling a quiet pull to return. Specifically, to a book that once felt like lightning in a bottle – One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig.  I remember reading it for…

Every creative person I know has a library card.  Maybe it’s the first card they signed themselves up for, the smell of pages on a summer afternoon, or the librarian who quietly slipped them a book that changed everything.  The library has always been a place where curiosity is free, and wonder doesn’t require a subscription.  And yet, it’s easy to forget that this world still exists – one where silence is sacred, stories live on shelves, and knowledge isn’t pay walled behind a login and an active credit card.  The library has existed at every stage of my life. Going as a kid, bringing the kids I nannied there…

Every reader I know has a TBR pile that could probably crush them if it toppled over.  Mine isn’t just a pile – it’s scattered across shelves and saved on apps.  And honestly? It’s a complete mess.  Books I swore I’d read months ago now sit untouched. New releases sneak their way onto my shelves before I’ve finished the last stack.  And there are titles I know, deep down, I may never pick up.  For a long time, that disorganization felt like failure, and that I was a “bad reader”.  The Myth of the “Perfect” TBR We like to think of our TBRs as neat and intentional. A curated list…

Every year, when the air starts to cool and the leaves begin to turn, I feel myself naturally gravitating towards books.  It’s almost like my reading life wakes up again.  Summer often feels scattered and busy, but fall welcomes the cozy reading sessions I miss during the summer heat.  Books once again find their place in my daily routine, and suddenly it feels like I’ve been reunited with an old friend.  Both of us lounging on my couch, with cozy blankets, and a much needed mug of hot cider.  The Seasonal Rhythm of Reading There’s a reason people call fall the coziest season.  The longer nights and chillier weather push…

There is something about summer that shifts the way I read. The pace feels slower, the day longer, and I find myself really craving books to match.  Cozy fantasy, dreamy fantasy, fast-paced thrillers I can tear through in a weekend.  This season I’ve been leaning into that. In today’s post, I’m walking you through how my reading habits have shifted this summer and how I actually make time for books.  Even with a full-time job and a growing blogging business.  How My Reading Habits Shift in the Summer In the colder months, I tend to gravitate towards heavier reads. Emotional, literary, or historical fiction that asks a lot of my…