I have read literally hundreds of books so far in my life. My parents and friends joke about it and say it’s sort of an ‘obsession’ but it’s more a passion, a passion to explore more worlds and lives and adventures than is possible in this mortal body constrained by money and laws and visas, etc.
I have traveled to Middle Earth, Narnia, Avalon, Fortrui, Sevenwaters and hundreds of other magical places, met creatures and characters of every flavour and nature and it has been glorious.
But over the last few years I have found my appetite has become more and more selected when I read. Before I just about read anything, it was as if I just needed the ‘fix’ of a story and to be lost in another world. To have an adventure in a day that left me breathless and my head full of dreams.
But as time passes I find that I have begun to change. I need books that hold my attention, that feed my mind and trap me within their pages. And I can honestly say that it is extremely difficult. For once you have tasted Tolkien and London, Marillier and Lewis, among many others, you get a taste for something above the mundane.
I think another reason might be that I have become aware of how short life is and how each day is priceless, and reading is a time-consuming activity – I wish to make my days count, I do not wish to read something that doesn’t somehow enrich or inspire me.
So, I am on a perpetual search of something more, something wonderful that will make me feel the same way I always do when I read the Silmarillion or Sevenwaters book.