Yesterday when I was browsing blog posts I came across this poem about books. It gives life to books and its depiction of books resonated with me.
I love to read. I adore books. I always have and I am sure I always will. I’ve been known to spend whole evenings, whole days even, engrossed in a book. Whilst it may look like I’m sat on the sofa reading, that’s not entirely true.
When I am reading, I am transported. I get pulled into another world. It might be a world of magic and mystery. I might meet ghosts or aliens. I could be traversing through lush jungles or across arid wastelands. No matter the setting, I find myself there. With a good book I can feel the desert sun scorching my skin, or taste the salty sea air.
Emotions tend to come through the strongest. When an author knows their craft they can elicit any number of reactions from the reader. Fear, anger, hatred and loathing. Joy, desire, love and surprise.
At times when I come to the end of a book I am left wondering “what now?” Not because the book had an unsatisfactory conclusion, but because that world has gone. The story is over and I have to return to reality. As publisher and author William Feather said:
Finishing a good book is like leaving a good friend.
But there is an upside. Because when you finish one book there is another to explore. And another, and another. New people to meet, new places to see. New delights and new horrors. Stories are as infinite as the human imagination, and I can’t see us running out of them any time soon.
Do you get swept up in the magic of books? How do you deal with the “loss” of finishing a book?