Since I was a child, I haven’t been able to see more than two feet in front of me. My sight was correctable, but without thick glasses or hard contacts, all I saw were colors and shapes. About six weeks ago I had eye surgery, with seven stitches in each eye and a lengthy healing process ahead of me. It turns out all of the things I usually do require me to see and to see well. So, though I’m on sabbatical working on my second novel, suddenly I couldn’t write—or read, or research, or drive, or cook, or walk in the sun, or watch movies, or text, or check my email, or play Catan. Instead I spent much of my time in bed in the dark, “reading” audiobooks.
As of this writing, I’m driving short distances, making notes for my novel, cooking, getting there. There is nothing quite like the solace of being read to when you need to rest. Thank you, brilliant authors and patient narrators. You gave me pleasure, connection, and meaning, adventure, tears, and laughs—hour-by-hour, image after sumptuous image. All I had to do was listen, while you showed me the world.