When turning the page is not a metaphor, but a journey renewed.

557985_3482343906026_1320974978_n

I have a love of books that I am sure countless others share but it is mine own passions that I will speak to.

There has been many a memory forged, imagination fueled, and insight rewarded(if I am capable of the latter) through the course of my life that one tome or another were at the epicenter of it.

My comic books as a child which were a balm so great that all but forgot about the trip to the doctor, or why one was needed, all that mattered was They were in the gift shop waiting for me.

My beloved gaming books, through them came a journey that brought friendships, laughter, a validation that my imagination had kindred spirits, and a means to explore them with studious delight.

My history books, be it on some great war, some ancient time, some great character long gone, through there recounting I gained an understanding of the world, and a better one of me.

Then there are my most beloved books of all. The great works of fiction, and the ones that matched my own musings and passions.

Tanks and fighters, swords and sorcery, cloaks and daggers, dragons and dwarfs and elves and!!(you get the gist)

My favorite books are .. most often, bound to favorite parts of my life, the people that have been there in them, memories made and shared. Many of these books I have owned more than once,(and read repeatedly) though the reasons for parting with each ranged from willful sacrifice in the hope another will share my enthusiasm, to those most painful changes to life that lays your world bare.

Books, you see, have been, and will remain, the most extraordinary constant of wonder, joy and comfort through the course of my life, and with each turning of a page not marking a past to be forgotten, but another magical journey Began.

Advertisements

One thought on “When turning the page is not a metaphor, but a journey renewed.

  1. I can’t deny that books are special things. My love for reading came from nighttime readings with my older brother and my mother reading out loud. I learned to read through C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and magic from the words and the books themselves. My first love of words came from books and being allowed to hold them in my hand while Mom read. Then those treasures graced my bookshelves in my room growing up. Now I have a house full of bookshelves and books in every nook and cranny. And when I write, I guess I hope that I can put some of that same magic into my words so someone else can add them to their collection.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s