I love a good book. For me a good book means I can start reading and forget everything around me. Live the story I am reading at the moment.
I remember reading “the never ending story” at the beach of Corsica, I think I was 16 years old. Laying at the beach. I could not put this book away. Hours upon hours I was reading. We where on a Pastors + Family retreat. So there where a few other kids and teenagers that we knew and hung out with. While I had made sure everyone was covered with sun lotion first.
I kind of forgot myself and payed the price in the evening. I was so burnt at the end of the day that I couldn’t even bend my knees or sit properly on my chair. I still have this book. I remember opening it the first time. The story was written in two different colors and the pictures would pull you in.
A few years ago when my Grandma passed away. My Dad started sending me all her books. I love him for that. He knows I need to feed my hunger for books, my hunger for imagination that comes with the written word. And reading in my Mother language has a little bit more magic for me, then reading it in English. Don’t get me wrong, I like reading a good book either way. It just tends to be a little easier in German plus it sets of a bit more imagination.
At the moment I have a little bit more of, what I call “heavier” literature on my bedside table. It is more informational stuff. Things that I want to learn, help me get better. A friend just send me a book the other week. It is called “Darm mit Charme”
You can find a little info on that right here (I am pretty sure there will be an English version soon)
Also I have a lot of Sarah Ballantyne’s books at the moment, that I am working through, due to my health issues that I was facing last year.
I can’t wait for the time my kids are out of School and I can get back to more reading again, where there are no fixed schedules no appointments we have to be at. I enjoy reading with my kids next to me with their noses stuck in a book too. Here and there hearing a chuckle or a deep gasp. Knowing they are living the story they are just reading.
I tried reading on a tablet, but that is no fun for me. I need to turn the pages, be able to jump back a few pages to reread something real quick. I just don’t get the same excitement out of an electronic device.
Now off to Zibbet, let’s see what kind of magic happens when I type in “books” in the search:
So what is your favorite book?
I love the Summer time, that means for us a weekly visit at the Library. Learning what my kids are interested in reading right now and hearing from them what they thought about the book they just read.
What are you reading at the moment?
I keep collecting books I know
I’ll never, never read;
My wife and daughter tell me so,
And yet I never head.
“Please make me,” says some wistful tome,
“A wee bit of yourself.”
And so I take my treasure home,
And tuck it in a shelf.
And now my very shelves complain;
They jam and over-spill.
They say: “Why don’t you ease our strain?”
“some day,” I say, “I will.”
So book by book they plead and sigh;
I pick and dip and scan;
Then put them back, distrest that I
Am such a busy man.
Now, there’s my Boswell and my Sterne,
my Gibbon and Defoe;
To savour Swift I’ll never learn,
Montaigne I may not know.
On Bacon I will never sup,
For Shakespeare I’ve no time;
Because I’m busy making up
These jingly bits of rhyme.
Chekov is caviare to me,
While Stendhal makes me snore;
Poor Proust is not my cup of tea,
And Balzac is a bore.
I have their books, I love their names,
And yet alas! they head,
With Lawrence, Joyce and Henry James,
My Roster of Unread.
I think it would be very well
If I commit a crime,
And get put in a prison cell
And not allowed to rhyme;
Yet given all these worthy books
According to my need,
I now caress with loving looks,
But never, never read.
by Robert William Service