I have not been myself this week. My mind has been sucked into the pages of an ‘unputdownable’ book.
This week, I live my normal life like an automaton. My brain, my attention and my senses have all been hijacked by the complex plot, and the gripping action.
I cook, and I think about what’s going to happen next. I feel as if I am floating in the real world and my identity exists only in the world inhabited by the characters in the book. This is the only reality.
Any small break, and I am nose-deep in the book. I am amazed at the power that words can have over me. Words that, when combined just right, narrate a powerful story. Words that grip me, make me laugh, make me cry and make my heart thud with the excitement of what is going to happen next!
And when the book ends, I am sure I will have difficulty coming back to the real world, where work and school and chores beckon. It will be an arduous task to leave the characters behind, but there are some that occupy permanent residence in my mind. They will probably join some of the other memorable characters, who already live there. People whom I know and love from those lovely books I have read, people who have influenced me and who have opened my mind to new thought.
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Reading a book is an indescribable pleasure. Whenever I finish a great book, I yearn to write one too. This is what reading does to me. There is a ‘wannabe writer’ in every bookworm’s head. I am no exception.
I dream of dialogues between imaginary characters and look at interesting people, who will fit into the book that I will eventually write.