The Magic of Books

I’ve said this before, but one of my greatest hopes for Riley is that he develops a true love for books and a passion for reading.

Basically, I want him to be just like me in this regard, NOT his father. My idea of a relaxing afternoon is to spend a few blissful hours in Barnes and Noble, browsing their shelves and trying not to become too weighed down by the titles I just HAVE to have.

Kenny, not so much. He’d be bored after only a few minutes in there.

Kenny never acquired a taste for books as he was growing up, even though his mom read to him just as much as she did to his two siblings (who both love to read). The same thing goes for my brother: he never became as interested in reading as I did, but you can be sure my mom read to us both equally.

It’s strange how something can sink so deep into one person and not at all into another. I’m currently reading The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield, and so much of what she wrote resonates with me:

"There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic."

"All morning I struggled with the sensation of stray wisps of one world seeping through the cracks of another. Do you know the feeling when you start reading a new book before the membrane of the last one has had time to close behind you? You leave the previous book with ideas and themes -- characters even -- caught in the fibers of your clothes, and when you open the new book, they are still with you.”

I have gotten so lost in what I’m reading that the clock turned to 2 AM many a night before I even realized how late it was. And I definitely have a tendency to carry over characters and themes in my mind from a previous read to a new one, mostly because I usually close the cover of one book and immediately hunt for the next. I ALWAYS have a book on my nightstand.

Kenny has told me he doesn’t like fiction because it’s not real, but that’s what I love the most about the books I normally gravitate towards. Authors come up with some amazing stories, imaginative tales that transport you to a whole different world, one you can always escape to, even if it’s just for a few minutes every day. I often need that little break from reality.

So I sincerely hope that one day Riley will want to read some of the books that I’ve loved over the years and also embrace newer ones that I haven’t read. The Harry Potter series, the Narnia chronicles, perhaps the Spiderwick and His Dark Materials series’, maybe even a little Hardy Boys, and yes, Nola and Nopsi, even the Lord of the Rings saga.

And I promise to take him to the bookstore whenever he wants to go to restock his supply.

It’s really the least I can do to keep him reading.