Yes, that still happens. I read less than I used to as a kid, but when I find those special books that really draw me in, I can still get very much obsessed with the story. I look forward to getting back to my book, I read as much as I possibly can, I want to talk about the story all the time, and I slow way down near the end because I don’t want to say goodbye to the characters.
Do you still find yourself going over the storyline in your head when you’re not reading?
I think it’s more that I think about the characters or about experiences from my own life that somehow relate to the story. I rarely think about the storyline because it’s almost like my brain forgets the story is not part of the real world, if that makes sense. I don’t think of it as a story with a beginning an en end. It’s like how when you’re watching a good movie, it feels real – whereas watching bad acting reminds you that it’s all pretend, which takes you out of the story and gets you wondering what you should cook for dinner.
Do you still sneak in extra pages when you’re supposed to be doing something else?
Of course. If you’re not doing that, the book is probably not that good!
Do you become emotionally invested in the hero/heroine?
Not just the main character, but many others as well. Especially the kids or people in difficult situations. I’m currently reading “Where the Crawdads Sing”, and I felt so sad for little Kya at the start, as people are leaving. I’m also reading “An Immense World” about animal and human senses. That one’s non-fiction, but it’s captivating because it’s so well-written, not at all dry. Plus, the subject matter is interesting to me.
I left two books unfinished last fall even though I liked them: “The Mare” and “The Animals in That Country”. Very different, but both books that made me think deeply. I stopped reading them because my mind was too fatigued at the time. Thanks for the reminder to pick them up again before I forget the story.
The last book I absolutely could not put down was “The Glass Castle”, a memoir about a dad who is lovely as well as neglectful. That book is amazing. There’s no way I could do it justice here. I immediately shared it with my friends and got copies for my sisters. I want to read it again even though it’s only been six months. Books about struggling families often interest me. “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” is one of my favourites, and I also liked “The Help” a lot. I like reading about children because I frequently think about parenting and really appreciate kids and their perspective on the world.
Literally (hehe) all the books I mentioned in this quip were selected and given to me by my husband. He’s made it his mission to find books I love. It’s awesome – I don’t know how he does it. It’s not that I like all the stories he gives me, but the success rate is very, very high. Before he started buying books for me, I’d often re-read books over and over rather than going to the trouble of finding a new story. That can be fun, too, but finding all these new stories has renewed my love of reading. Whereas I was still enjoying reading as a comforting hobby, it is now also an exciting hobby again.