So, anyway...without further ado... My Book.
My book. We all use that phrase: I’ll get to the (laundry,
dishes, litter box, job search) just as soon as I finish my book.
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My book. It
doesn’t matter whose actual book it is--Patricia Cornwell, Dan Brown, Mark
Twain, Jane Austen--once we pick it up, peek inside at a random page and inhale
deeply as we clutch it in our hands, it becomes ours. Our next “Once upon a time…” (1) New bestsellers,
old favorites…it doesn’t matter. Browsing through the bookstore is exhilarating;
exploring the stacks at the library, reassuring. We make our choice and hug our
book to our breast in a proprietary way, almost protective. It doesn’t matter
that there are another hundred thousand books out in the world just like this
one. This one is ours.
It’s not just the thrill of having a new book to read, it’s
not just reading. Once you open the cover and read the first sentence, you’ve
entered into a relationship with your book. “Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into
the wrong person.” (2) I mean really. How can anyone put that book down?
The relationship continues and demands your attention. We
actually put things off to read our book, don’t we? Maybe even neglect some
things? Like children? I remember
one time when my son was young, maybe about two years
old. He had been sick with a cold and was a little less energetic than usual.
He was playing contentedly on the family room floor with his blocks and I took
the opportunity to read my book. "Last
night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." (3) Suddenly, I realized he
had gone quiet—he had fallen asleep right there in a pile of Duplos. Did I
scoop him up gently and transfer him to his crib? Nope. I left him right there
and greedily finished another couple of chapters of my book. In my defense, I
did remove the blocks from under his cheek and cover him with a blanket.
Being in the middle of a book is like heeding a siren’s
call. Glancing at it on your nightstand as you change into your PJs both excites
and calms you because you know you will soon be propped up with a couple of
pillows, tucked happily under the quilt and cracking open your book to the page
you left behind this morning, sneaking in just a few more pages before having
to go off and make a living. Stupid jobs...they get in the way of everything.
“Life changes fast.
Life changes in an instant.” (4) But when you have a book with you, it’s
like an anchor for your soul. We know life changes in an instant; it’s reading
what others write about it that connects us to a greater understanding about
our life experience. Our book gives us a tangible hand to hold, a constant
friend at our side. Our books, their authors and their characters stay in our
heads and guide us. I want to be cool like Kay Scarpetta, funny like Erma
Bombeck, smart like Joan Didion. Even as my reading habits ebb and flow
depending on how busy my life is, books occupy a place in my life that is not
like any other object in the world. A book is both inanimate and animate at the
same time. I loved all the books I’ve read and all the books I will read. As
William Goldman writes, “This is my
favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it.” (5)
1. Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Grimm’s Fairy Tales
2. Anne Tyler, Back
When We Were Grownups
3. Joan Didion, The
Year Of Magical Thinking
4. Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca
5. William Goldman, The
Princess Bride
Originally posted on She Writes February 2, 2017
