Sunday, December 02, 2007

Stuck in a Book, Finally

I love beings surrounded by words and wordforms. I don't know why either. I see words in my head all the time. When I'm speaking, the words appear in my head like chalk on a blackboard. Each letter, the size of the letters... the shapes of words are important to how I perceive them. Of course I'm not alone in that trait--it's standard word recognition--but words rock!

Growing up, I always had books. I have tons of books now, bookcases overflowing and literally tipping out from the wall due to the weight. I've read some of my books so many times that the spines are worn and tattered. I would read a book a day during the summers home alone as a young teenager, mostly adventures and historical fiction. In high school, I had grown out of chapter books and wasn't ready for adult books yet... so I stopped reading for a while. In college, I loathed the assigned reading and stuck to history and other select pieces. I haven't read a good fiction book in a long time.

The other day, I was sitting at work when this odd feeling came over me. I desired to read a particular book again. Not a feeling to go home, pick up the book, thumb through it for the good parts, and then put it away again... oh no. I wanted to read into the book, to mine the thoughts and words for meaning and emotions. I wanted to learn and grow through the text.

That's a very scary feeling when you're in the middle of some hardcore, mindless data entry.

So I got home and realized I didn't have time to sit and read the way I needed to. I put it off, but the desire didn't leave. It intensified. Now I'm pretty strong-willed, and I have every ability to overcome my own desires, but this! This was intense. I succumbed. The next night, I pulled that book off the shelf and read. I stayed up for hours past my usual bedtime. I read the words and drank in their meaning and was calmed and comforted and the feeling has not yet abated. I need to finish the book. Again.

The words sing to me. They are inspired, perhaps divinely, perhaps not. I don't know. I don't know the history of the author, and I don't much care. The book makes me feel better about my world. Rich histories, vivid imagery... I wish I would have realized this long, long ago.

Gotta go. The words are calling me.

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