Though I love to write, I begrudgedly admit I am not a voracious reader. Not for a lack of wanting, simply for a lack of speed. I get frustrated when it takes so much time to read the first 100 pages (yet then finish it with ease and enjoyment). That said, nothing gives me greater pleasure than reading a great book. I was reminded of this on vacation last week when friends of my husband said they’d struggled to find a good read as of late, and neither of us could remember a real page turner since Lovely Bones (which I read five years ago on my honeymoon).

But this statement is true no more. I just finished reading a memorable and moving book – Eat Pray Love. As usual, I was struggling through the first third of the book. Though I found her eating escapades in Italy interesting, I didn’t find them riveting. Though I felt her pain in describing her depression and anxiety understandable and sad, I found it painful to read. I almost put the book down with a “well, I tried but I just couldn’t get through it.” She’s a great writer but I can’t read more than 3 pages at night after I’ve put my child to bed.

How glad I am I moved onward to India. In fact, I gained increasing interest in the book because I found the information on the Ashram, yoga and meditation factually and historically fascinating. But that’s when the author really pulled me in with her personal experience, too. From a desire to be closer to God to the trials and tribulations of meditation to a genuine interest in other cultures and people – I simply couldn’t put the book down. Her ability to admit her shortcomings and describe how she was personally able to overcome them was inspiring.

Anyway, I haven’t read a book this good in a long time. I’m simply sad that it’s over. And Elizabeth Gilbert has made it very hard for me to pick up another book this summer, as the next will pale in comparison, no doubt.