A friend recently asked what would happen if everyone now reading Fifty Shades of Grey read 90 Minutes in Heaven instead? I think he was annoyed that anyone would devote any time to anything unrelated to religion.
What if people who refuse to read one over the other, read both? Or if those who never read at all read something? Just read. A paragraph, the comics, a children’s book, a blog post…
Books are great companions, some better friends than other. They find a way into our lives, drawing us in, teaching, helping us learn, unlearn, think, re-think. If we never grow and change, nothing changes. Or maybe a book reinforces what we already believe.
People who read a thousand books, live a thousand lives within the pages, connecting with the characters in the stories, the authors who formed the words, the other readers – those who suggested it, those who read it a hundred years ago.
Certain books I read over and over, leaving a part of myself between the pages each time, taking something new with me at the end, a feeling, a thought, a memory. Years later, re-reading it, I find myself again, a younger person but the same person, familiar but with broadened horizons. Maybe I see it in a totally new light because I’m a different me.