How much can you read?

I read 64 books in 2010, not counting the short stories and religious pamphlets that settled-in, waiting patiently on my night-stand. And I wonder, not that I’m complaining or am trying to purposely be obtuse, but how on earth do other book bloggers read two or three hundred books in one year? I get that two books per week is a completely doable thing, but anything between two and three hundred means these people are reading, on average, five books in seven days. How is this even consistently possible? Are these individuals, inmates with nothing else to do in their lives? And I’m not even going to mention the obvious moments of necessary intermissions throughout a 24 hour day.

Even if a person is a speed reader, and I have met some in my day, they still couldn’t read this many books in one year and continue to maintain some semblance of a life. Or am I missing something here? Things have been known to get lost within that empty space above my head, and circle around the duh factor which may or may not finally don on me.

I am, however, inclined to go with the obvious answer as being, of course, that by the lyrical sound and feel of it, most of these book bloggers have a nose that is perpetually growing.

illustrations of Roald Dahl's Matilda
by
Quentin Blake
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