April 7, 2009
Silhouetted against a window, a girl appears to be engrossed in the book she is reading. When was the last time you were completely engrossed in a book? What was the title of the book? What was it about the book that captured your imagination? Describe one or more of the characters you encountered in your reading. If you were to write a book yourself, what would you write about?
Wow. This is gonna be long.
Spring break. A couple of weeks ago, when the air was chilled, even though it wasn't supposed to be, I found a way to enjoy the sun and it's warmth through a west facing window. Curled up with my book on the princess bed in the afternoon, reading the third in a series of four, I wanted nothing more than to read myself into oblivion. White sheer curtains surrounded me. The comforter was soft and molded to me. The bed, soft and squishy to perfection. I wanted to read and never stop. Not because I was trying to escape anything in my real life, but because I was being transported to another time in my life. The characters were all people I had known in my life. I felt their pain, their joy; I even knew how they sounded. I knew what would make them smile, what would make them sad, and make them sigh. I was drawn in and saw the movie play behind my quick-reading eyes. Oh sure, they had descriptions, but they were so clear in my mind, I don't know that the words accurately portrayed who they were to me. I read and read and read. And then would make myself pause, because I didn't want it to end. I wanted the show to continue, unending, as I enjoyed it so fully. That fight with myself was lost. I lost to excitement and fullfillment and desire to know how it all turns out, sometimes called curiosity. But the defeat did not feel bad. With it came the joy of knowing.
I won't share the title. It doesn't matter. I say that, but I don't know of any other set of books that have captured me to that extent.
A book about me? I've already started. It's about love and fairy tales, which is the world I live in most often, even in my everyday life. I've never grown up, or out of it. Pity me because of it? You can if you feel the need, but I prefer my world, relish my world, achieve in my world. Most people wouldn't suspect that this is "where I live" from seeing me on the outside. Those closer might have an inkling. And those entrenched in my world know they are characters and the roles they play and seem content to follow those parameters. It's a truly happy place, and while it may sound like a lie, it is so truthful and peaceful. Not to say that there are no climaxes, conflicts, or sorrowful points. Those abound. Those make a story a GOOD story. That's MY story, where I live. And I wouldn't change it even if I could.
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