Books! Books books books books!
Books are fabulous! I’m asking for a bunch for my upcoming birthday and I still have a ton to read. I think when I’m done with this post I’m going to go read Shada some more.
Anyway, what makes books so great?
EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM.
Well, the good books at least. Not Twilight. Twilight is stupid, and Robert Pattinson should be hugged for playing Cedric Diggory, not Edward. And even he hates Twilight.
First, let’s start with the outside of the book. The cover is beautiful, and the plot looks beautiful from the nice summary you have in the side cover/back cover you know. You’re just so excited to READ IT. And then there’s always that beautiful book smell. Now this sounds weird, but next time you have a new book shove your nose in it. Literally. Just inhale. Make a candle of that stuff, white people. Because white people can make a smell out of anything.
Then you open it and just immerse yourself in this world that you have never dreamed of before. You meet characters and fall in love with them and hate them and want to punch them in the face and cry with them and hug them and you scream at them and hope that they’ll listen even though you know they won’t.
They take all these impossible things and make them real and you want more.
And then that inevitable ending will stomp on your heart, crush your soul, infuriate you, or just make you go into a zone of…. what. Seriously, it is a weird existentialist and melancholy but yet still so oddly satisfying and great and feel that is almost refreshing. You just lay back, look up at the ceiling with a sigh, like “Wow. I just read that. That was great.”
Then you have more adventures with other books, or you can return to that journey another time and live through it again. And you’ll think the SAME THINGS. It’s just…. god. I don’t even know. I just went on a weird rant about books.
You should read. Get that feel too. And if you DARE say books are stupid, I want you to go to Barnes and Noble and pick up a novelized version of your favorite video game like Augustus Waters did. Or just grab any random book. Not Fifty Shade of Grey or Twilight, because I know you’re better than that. Or local bookstores. Just a bookstore. They’re lovely places, and it’s almost impossible to not feel at home there.
Books are homey. Just books.