…drawing out the last few pages of a book? Savoring those final precious words that inch you closer to what might well be a dissatisfying conclusion? I do this all the time, especially with ongoing series where the next book won’t be out for a few months.
So I was in London today for my editorial assistant interview. I feel I successfully maintained a calm, cool and collected demeanour – even if I was screaming internally.
On the plus side, I got a lot of reading done on the train! I should have my next review up either tomorrow or Saturday.
This question hurts my head simply because I cannot give an adequate answer . Books play such a fundamental role in my life that being without them is unimaginable. Books act as a sanctuary of sorts. For me, at least. It doesn’t matter how bad my day has been, I can always rely on a good book to whisk me away and give me much needed respite. I have traveled the world and even to distant planets and dimensions. I have met incredible people who have taught me much needed lessons in life and love. I have lived thousands of lives through the eyes of another. I have been inspired by the courage of characters and by their determination to thrive even when all the odds have been stacked against them. So much of me – Jazz, the writer, the English teacher, the big sister, the best friend, the traveler – has been molded by the books I have read and the characters I’ve encountered and the things I’ve experienced by their sides.
So I ask you, on this overly humid Thursday night, why do you read? What have books done for you?