I have a reading quirk.
When I’m deep in a delicious read, and I come to a particularly exquisite part — one that makes me smile or laugh or sigh or swoon or feel all gooey and nostalgic — I have to set the book down.
I have to stop reading.
For most, I guess, setting a book down means you got bored with it. It’s the opposite for me. When I’m bored with a book, I either read super fast to get it good and over with, or I shelve it. Forever.
But setting a book down is different for me. Setting a book down means I’m savoring what I read. I don’t want to keep reading because I might lose that little nugget of perfection I just came across, I might forget about it, before I can fully enjoy it.
It’s like scarfing down a gourmet meal too fast instead of savoring. I need to make the feast of words last as long as possible. I need to relish every scene that seems like it was written just for me. Like the author said, with an evil little grin, “Mandy’s going to love this part. She’s going to love it so much, she’ll put the book down.”
If I don’t put the book down, then it’s over too soon. It’s all over too damn soon.
So what am I reading? Two delicious books (yes, at the same time, because I dig an overload of flavor) by April Genevieve Tucholke and Chris Howard.
Dang.
Just…dang.
P.S.
I put the book down to write this. Oh yes, I did.
