In high school I thought I was so cool and would only read the classics interspersed with Shopaholic books (aka completely opposite of the classics...I don't really have any reasoning for this) and found Sparks books to be completely boring. While abroad, however, we had a limited supply of books and once I got through my stash, I started reading everyone else's books, which mostly included Sparks books.
I started with Dear John and was hooked. Since then, I've read my fair share including The Last Song on my cruise ship, which ended with me bawling for 2 hours on the pool deck. I'm sure the European women were secretly laughing at me, but I was young and in love and completely connecting with the characters. Then it took me a full summer for me to finish The Rescue because I was so busy and tired all the time, and now I'm reading The Guardian, which I will probably finish by the end of the week.
Losing myself in a book has always been one of my favorite things to do. No matter whether my life is going well or not so well, I find it comforting and relaxing to escape in to another world for a little while. I sometimes convince myself it's "research" for my hopes of writing my own novel somewhere in the distant future, especially when reading Sparks books.
Whenever I get to the end of a book, I get really anxious. I've had such a good time reading about and living the character's lives that sometimes I just don't want it to end. It always does though. Then I get to sit and soak in everything I just read, which is also comforting and cathartic. Somehow enjoying a book helps me appreciate my life more and thankfully there are still so many greats I have yet to read :)
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| My view for most of the day. Book, blanket & cold but comfy room. |
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