Confessions of a Reader.

I love to read. I could spend hours at a bookstore and I am at the library at least twice a month. I haven’t read all of the classics. Who and what defines a classic, anyway? I’ve never read any Jane Austen but I keep meaning to and not because of the movies. Well, maybe because of the movies. I swooned over Wuthering Heights in college and trudged through Dickens but in the end it was a far, far better place that I went.

One of my favorite parts about reading is when I can say to someone “Have you read this? You should read this. Here, let me tell you what this story is about and then you can decide if you want to read this.” I am that person at the shops, at work, sitting next to you at a dinner party who says “That reminds me of an interesting book I just read…” but not in annoying or pedantic way. I don’t apologize for quoting memorable lines and I think that everyone should have at least one favorite book. Mine is To Kill A Mockingbird. I don’t care if you think that’s cliché. I read it when I was 15 and I have been enchanted by it ever since. Hey Boo.

I think that being able to tell a story about what you’ve learned is a little bit like being a very good teacher; you tell just enough to spark an interest or a question or a provocative thought and then you let the person find out on her own what she really thinks. To that end, here is a summary of one of my other favorite books:

Pilot crashes in the desert and has hallucinatory trip about meeting a boy prince who fell in love, protected his love, got lonely, traveled away far and wide to cure loneliness, was amused and disturbed by adults, realized that the love you have for something is what makes it unique, said a couple of things that people always say now and died in a pseudo-messianic way that made the pilot wonder if roses are even ever worth it.

Have you read this? You should.