I often re-read books. I like the familiarity of the story. I like discovering things I forgot on the first read. I also just like the stories that I choose to read time and again. A few of my favorites are:
The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks
The Thief of Always by Clive Cussler
While I was Gone by Sue Miller
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
As I was packing up my books for the move I skimmed through a lot of them (they don't all fit in my new place,I have that many) so I had to pick and choose which to bring and which to leave behind. It was quite like choosing which happy memory to keep and which to discard. I found myself remembering where I was when I read each book for the first time. I looked back over my life so far, the years coming in fragments. Each time I was lying in a bed or on a couch, booked propped up the story taking me away from a problem or to a different place. And so I began to think about life and what books really mean to me.
I think it's a chance to explore different aspects of my personality. I love a mystery for the suspense, and the darkness. A romance for the passion. A classic for the history and the meaning. And I guess each day is like that too. I have my hands in so many things and I am a different person for different people. But yet always the same.
No comments:
Post a Comment