Memoir of a Reader

All my life I have had an infatuation with words. My mother would read to me every day from the time before I was even old enough to understand her words to when my family fell on hard times and she had to find work. It was she who taught me the meaning of a story, and I will always thank her for introducing me to literature. Though I know that if she had not brought me up in the bosom of the written word I would have found my way to it eventually.

There is a stillness in my soul that can only be found when I read, a peace that can only be found when I sit back and let the words wash over me. Nothing matters anymore; real life is a figment of someone else’s imagination. I become the character, their life is all that is real to me, their thoughts are my thoughts, their memories my memories, their emotions mine.  I am a princess, a wizard, a warrior, a murderer, a victim, a hero, a villain. I am Dorian Gray, Elizabeth Bathory, Harry Potter, Frodo, Bella Swan, they are my past lives. I am unfamiliar with my own voice; all I can hear is that of the character. I have no name because I have so many. I live through the words, and they through me.  I am only ever truly myself when I am someone else.  

The moments when I stop everything and settle down with a book are the greatest moments in my life. Books expect nothing from the reader; they merely wish to entrance you with their story. When I read time stands still and a serenity falls over me. This is the only time I truly live. Real life has nothing to offer me; I live through the printed word.

The authors of the past are my gods, I am more than happy to live under their rule. Death at the hands of Poe or Tolkien is the greatest of honors. As a young woman I decided I wanted to become a writer to paint my own lives to live. Secretly I know I would much rather live in someone else’s world rather than create my own, yet the idea of being a god over my own life entrances me. In real life there is far too much that I cannot foresee or control, in the written word there are always clues to pick up on, foreshadowing that hints at the ending. Life throws you for a loop like any great author, but without the finesse and grace of a well-written story. Life punches you in the gut, an unexpected turn in a story slaps you in the face; one hurts your psyche, the other bruises you internally.