I love to read.

Perhaps that’s a bit obvious. I do write a book blog. But I don’t always talk about that simple reason for this blog. I love to read.

I’m a book worm. I am constantly reading at least 3 books at any given time. I don’t understand how some people haven’t read a book in a year, since they had their first child, since they were in high school. I ask for books for my birthday, for Christmas, for Mother’s Day, for Easter, for fun–any reason for a new book. My favorite store is Barnes and Noble. I love my library card. I give books as gifts. I want to have a library in my dream home one day.  I love books.

I’ve been working on a post for months about why I love books. And today I finally feel like I can share it.

Ode to Books

For me, reading is like breathing. I need to do it everyday.

Reading is about the beauty, the journey, the emotions and strength of books.

Its about the physical love I have for books. I love seeing dozens of books on my bookshelves with creased spines and worn covers. Old and new. All my favorite in some way. Whether I have even read them in full or not, I love my books. I love bookstores. Walking lazily through each row–pointing out or stroking the books I love or the ones I want to read.

Its about entering another way of thinking and living. To take on character traits and run alongside characters. To feel excited or scared or hurt or confused. To breath heavy or not at all. Its about living life in a completely different way or living another person’s life–a life that could never be reality.

It stems from the twists and turns of a story. The unexpected events and changes. The way someone can surprise you or disappoint you or make you think. The way I try to predict the ending, and love when I am still surprised. Its making friends with people and creatures that are different than you. Its learning to care for those characters–sometimes to the point of fault.

Its getting so engrossed in a book that I forget to eat, to sleep, to respond when spoken to–to do anything else. Its about not being able to turn the pages fast enough. Its the excitement in finishing school or waking up in the morning knowing that I get to read. Its loosing track of time. Its that moment when I decide I have to finish this book so I can move on with my life. And even better when that moment happens after midnight.

Its about finding the joy in reading. When I in college, I felt guilty or pressured by reading for fun. That probably comes with reading so much for school. And a fear that I couldn’t read for fun anymore–that somehow serious work had tainted my love of books and of reading. But that’s something I have changed. I decided to love reading again. Now, I have a goal to read a lot. For fun. For me. And it is exciting and fun.

At the core, I think its simply about love.

A love for carrying a book around and for turning pages faster than I can read.

A love of skipping ahead on the page to read the dialogue so that I can find out what happens. And then back tracking because the prose was equally important to the story.

A love for beautiful language and beautiful storytelling.

A love for the epic plot twist that I didn’t see coming, but love how it changes the story.

A love for seeing love and friendship and trust develop between characters.

A love between me and characters. Learning to care for people that don’t exist in reality, but very much so exist in my mind.

A love for books that stay with me–that I keep thinking about for days after I read them and recommend to everyone I know.

I read because I love it, and books bring me joy.

I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Why do you love reading? What gets you excited about books?