Sometimes there is a book that steals a piece of you. It sinks into you and crafts a hole and nestles there coloring your imagination and changing the things you want out of life.
Because of Pride and Prejudice, I dream of a different kind of love. I don’t need the flashy Wickham. I need Darcy. You know?
Because of Harry Potter, I want a letter to Hogwarts. More than just about anything. Sometimes when I’m having trouble sleeping, I dream of what 11 year old me would put in her trunk for Hogwarts. What would you pack? Are you muggle born or born to a family with a house elf and a clock that tracks your location and a mom that reads Witch Weekly? What animal do you bring with you? A handy owl or kitty to snuggle?
Because of some random mystery, I want to have beignets and bananas foster in New Orleans. Because of A Wrinkle in Time, I tried a tomato sandwich (yum!). Because of regency romance novels, I tried scones and clotted cream (also yum!).
I need Gladys from the Flavia de Luce books. I want an old rambling gothic mansion. I want an apple orchard. I want to walk into the Paris catacombs. And picnic in a Paris graveyard (Anna and the French Kiss). I want to float in a boat on Prince Edward Island (Anne of Green Gables).
And after finishing The Dream Thieves, I want friends good enough that I can bury a body with them. Which sounds creepy and awful. But 1) ***SPOILER***, it wasn’t human. And 2) there’s an odd level of friendship that you’ve reached when you can call up your buddy and bury a body together.
The reason I heart books though? They allow me to experience a little bit of magic. It’s why I write and why I read. Because, in the end, I just heart books.
ps I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see my covers with those other ones. even if i did it myself. ❤