I've just re-surfaced from reading a book, and for a day and a half I was in a state of rapture as I'm wont to do when I have one I'm in love with. I move about my day as planned, but I just punctuate the day with reading. There was actually one point yesterday where I shoved the book to the back of the closet to keep myself from reading it.
When I have a good book, at least in winter, I bury myself in the couch with it, and just ready until my eyes go blurry and teary. Late into the night I read, and the next day I take a bath so that way I have an excuse to devour the book till the water's cold. During the summer I spend hours out on the porch swing the words moving through my mind as the swing goes "squeak squeak."
What is this book you ask? Well, this is a little embarrassing, not a lot, but a little. I wasn't engrossed in a lovely Austen or Bronte. If I was, then I would be going around saying things like: "I am deeply honored by your proposal, but I'm afraid that I cannot except it, my feelings in every respect forbid it. Can we speak any plainer?" (I think they could speak a little plainer myself.)
Or I would be running around banging my head into trees and shouting "Heathcliff!"
This was just a dippy little David Sedaris book. When You're Engulfed in Flames. I personally range from thinking that it's either a really cool, or really disturbing title. It was laugh out loud funny, though there are a few times where he strikes a cord with me, and either makes me feel like a great person, or a piece of trash. I think that's more my issues than his, and I'll keep reading him. It's probably the mark of a good author who can make you feel many emotions.
I love reading, but there were a few years where I didn't really like it, probably because I removed from all good books, the only things I had to read were the aforementioned Austen and Bronte, (which are good books, but a touch exhausting if you know what I mean) and romance novels. (I could have gone to the library and gotten books, but that would have involved paying the fine.) Then a used book shop moved in about a mile from my house and I've had all sorts of access to great books at great prices. I counted the other day and I've got about thirty books from that shop and I've read most of them.
I think I'm going to go crack open a book. Edith Wharton's next.