As far back as I can remember, I’ve loved to read. To me, nothing helps getting over the woes of the day or a tough time like becoming absorbed in a good book. When I was a kid there a period of time (I don’t recall for how long but a few months for sure) when I was about 11 years old when I was ill. Nothing super serious, just generally feeling off and lethargic, but often resulted in me backing out of plans and my parents having to leave me with a sitter or with my gramma. Time spent being quiet and restful. During that time someone gave me a copy of Island of the Blue Dolphins which is a story about a young girl who becomes stranded on an island with her younger brother and must provide for both of them. To this day I still read that book at least once a year, usually when I’m sick. I think the character’s strength takes my mind off of my own illness and helps me thru it, just like when I was a kid.
Many years later I escaped into the Harry Potter series. It helped to take my mind off of a very bad job situation I had gotten into. It gave me the ability to turn my brain from thinking about work and all the office drama to imagining what Hogwart’s would look like and what it would be like to wake up one day and find out that you’re a wizard. This was back in 2000 before the movies were made so I still had to use my own imagination 🙂
Home is good, work is great, things are starting to settle down, and I’m still reading like a fiend. Two books a week on average. Not so much for escape, but for entertainment and the joy of sitting quietly and enjoying a good story. So much better than movies or TV.
But when I finish a really good book, I sometimes feel sad. I am sad today, for example. Last night I finished reading The Pact by Jodi Picoult. It was SO good I put it down only during work hours and driving. I devoured every word, loved the story, loved the ending. But today I am sad that I burned thru it so quickly and now I have to start over. It’s like that story became my friend for the past week. Sadness like when a friend moves away and I have to find a new friend. I know that sounds strange but I can’t think of a better example. I’ve got bookshelves stuffed with books but none of them jumps out at me right now as I need to somewhat mourn the ending of the previous book before I can make a decision. It will happen. Today or tomorrow I’ll finally decide which book to start and, if it’s a good one, it’ll grab my attention and suck me in. If it’s not good, it’ll go back on the shelf or into the donate pile and I’ll try again.