On reading books

Books I grew up in a house stuffed full of books, with no television, and electricity for only an hour or two per day (while the generator was running). There were shelves full of old science fiction (Asimov and Heinlein), as well as books on history, some good old fantasy, and other smatterings collected from second-hand bookstores over the years. My mother read to us each night when we were children, starting with Dr Seuss, all the way to Harry Potter, where she did the spooky voices during the Voldemort scenes, which had me walking up and down the room with my fingers in my ears, humming to myself, until the scary parts were over. Naturally, this led to me reading a lot as a teenager and young adult. Up until I left home at 18, I would fall asleep each night reading by candlelight, which sounds very romantic and, in hindsight, definitely contributed to good sleep growing up. At university, I read substantially less. I suddenly had a computer in my room, reliable electricity, and…