Reading is one of my one true loves in life. I love it so much that a book can envelop my entire consciousness for days and wind its way into my inner workings. I’ve got shelves crammed full of books I’ve read and don’t have the heart to get rid of, books that I can’t wait to crack open and devour and even more books that others hope I’ll want to read. I’ve spent hours in book stores and even more time at the library book sale each fall scouring the titles for something that speaks to me – meaning it could be anything from the Poisonwood Bible to something about vampires (cough, Twilight Series, cough).
I’m not one of those people that wants to sit down to a book only to find myself falling into a twisted story (while beautifully written) that in the end will only leave me wishing I hadn’t opened the book to begin with. I read to enjoy the words, to learn something or to find solace in something I can’t find outside of books. Books are like coming home – an escape from reality and a chance to live through something you otherwise would have missed.
Now that I’ve quit my job I’ve had a bit more time to read with less of an imposed bed time — meaning I’ve flown through 6 books in just about a month. What was it I was reading with such fervor?
See, a little of everything. With days like yesterday with the snow flakes spitting from the sky, nothing sounds better than curling up with a cup of hot apple cider and a book. Not sure what book is next on the list, any suggestions?
