There really is something in allowing yourself to splurge an afternoon on an enticing story. You settle into your favorite chair and look around to make sure everything is in place - a glass of water and something to munch on at arms length away, a cozy blanket in case your body temperature suddenly changes, and your phone resting on the arm of your chair in order to eliminate the need to get up if it rings.
With everything in place, you release a sigh of contentment as you quickly flip the pages to where you left off. Bookmark or not, you know exactly where you should be within a matter of moments. This is a finely honed skill, having been acquired from much practice. You didn't really have to take mental note of which page or where on the page you left off. Your fingers masterfully choose a spot to open the book, already familiar with just about how many pages were in the left hand and how many in the right hand the last time you held this book. You don't have to read full sentences in order to find your place. Your eyes are trained to briskly dance across the words, recognizing phrases that trigger your memory, already pulling you back into the story as if you had never left. And then you find it; within moments your eyes have landed on that very particular place that is now your starting-line or trail-head for this afternoon's journey.
Everything that you have read up to this point comes back to you like a freshly painted room. And so you begin... At first you are keenly aware of the words on the pages, the sentence structures, and the rhythmic flow of English. But as you flip page after page, you begin to lose consciousness of everything but the story that you are now fully part of. Hours pass by, your legs cramp up, you've adjusted your seating multiple times. Your friend calls your cell phone, you glance at who it is and, a little shamefully, press ignore call.
Reality is no longer your reality. You have been swept into a life not your own. You have become anti-social as you spend your time with your new friends who will never be able to return the favor. You tell yourself that you will put the book down once you have arrived to a "stopping place," but that is easier said than done. The author has written in such a way that, although the most recent chapter answered the questions that were aroused in the last, even more urgent questions have just been raised. How can you walk away without knowing what happens, without coming to some kind of momentary resolution? Walk away and you will spend the rest of your day in agony as all you can do is wonder. You will replay the most climactic moments that you have read so far, and will begin to fabricate what you suppose will happen next. No, you just cannot put yourself through that pain. Just one more chapter; you will finish after you read about your favorite character.
You glance up at the clock, Oh good heavens! You are going to be late for work! So you resolve to set down your book for now, but not before hungrily consuming one more rushed paragraph. You run off to get ready. Your book now lies in a reckless manner on your favorite chair. You know exactly where to find it once you return from work, and find it you will for there is nothing else on your mind. You knew you would come to this point, this almost irresponsible obsession, but it is worth it. "Why?" others might ask. Because such a novel is inspiration. It stirs up desire for adventure, the aspiration to reach for greater things in life. It causes you to be unsatisfied with living the mediocre life. What will your own story be? You must cling to the belief that your life will be, in a similar fashion to the novels you read, a story worth telling. Just like these beautifully written novels, your life will carry all the same elements - characters that are necessary to the plot, impossible circumstances, moments of uncertainty, process, climactic moments, and many resolutions along the way. This is why you are a lover of stories. This is why you let yourself continue to waste hours reading. You may consider yourself a reader of novels, but you are even more so a liver of life.
