Saturday, 13 October 2012
I just finished 'Prodigal Summer' by Barbara Kingsolver, my reading time usually consists of nighttime moments, stolen, as the rest of the house sleeps and I try desperately to keep my lids from falling. Reading this book brought back so many other moments (that I had forgotten) of utter deliciousness of being so in love with the whole book reading experience. I devoured most of the book, delighting in the stories that were unfolding within it and finding myself thinking about the story whenever I was away but then I realised, all too suddenly, that "oh no" I was nearing the end so I quickly reigned myself in, I changed my reading pace and read as if I was being bathed in it, I would put the book down even when my eyelids were still, relatively, open. And then I finished and the whole story was complete within me, I felt full, yes, I wished it would go on but I was aware of that feeling, that wonderful feeling of being connected to it, in it's completion. I haven't had such a wonderful book reading experience it quite some time and now, now, I'm not sure where to go now but for now I am savouring this feeling.