One of the rare joys to come of this pandemic and shutdown is my renewed hunger for the written word. I've always been a huge reader and bibliophile, but since early in the pandemic I've been reading books at a pace I've not experienced since my 20s. And now that Trump is somewhat insignificant, I am no longer doom-scrolling for every single news story about what horrific thing he's done, and in turn missing out on precious time when I could be learning or just escaping to other worlds. I've been trying to catch up on classics that for some reason I never read; most recently I devoured The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin and Ragtime by E. L. Doctorow; both of which were mind-blowing, albeit in very different ways.
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