I got started tonight by devouring C.S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew, the first (and most commonly forgotten) volume in The Chronicles of Narnia. It was quite delightful, and I found it much more enjoyable than sitting around mucking and watching some meaningless reruns on TV.
When I was younger, my mother wouldn't let me watch TV, so I would read. Anything and everything I could get my hands on, I would read. I spent one summer reading the encyclopedia because I'd exhausted everything else. As I've gotten older, I've gotten lazier, and gotten into the very bad habit of turning on the TV just for company. It's going to be a hard habit to break, as one grows accustomed to the constant companionship the Magic Box provides. Even if it's just the Weather Channel, it's another human voice, assuring you that the world still exists outside your four walls. Take that away, and the world becomes a quiet and frightening place.
I shall endeavor to read at least one of the remaining 6 Narnia volumes each evening. After that, I've got the latter 2/3's of Lewis' Space Trilogy, Perelandra and That Hideous Strength. And after that, I really should see about finishing Olaf Stapleton's Sirius, yet another book I started but never managed to finish. And there are dozens more books to be read after that. I have the entire Redwall series, but have never read anything beyond the first. There are a couple more Spellsinger novels I haven't read. I've only read the first volume in the Sholan Alliance series. And I have the entire mammoth History of Middle Earth. And that's just the start.