July 14, 2014

So I say thank you for the books, the stories I'm reading ...

... thanks for all the joy they're bringing. Who can live without them, I ask in all honesty - what would life be? [insert Abba song tune]

Looking back on my reading life there have been treasured moments when that special book and/or author entered my book-shaped universe and changed it for good. I bet every reader has his or her story to tell and today's my turn to share some of those special incidents that ended up filling my mind with joy and my book-shelves with, well, books.

As much as I do not recall who gave it to me (probably my parents) or even when exactly I received it (could have been a birthday or maybe Christmas) my fondest memory that involves a book is of me taking my copy of My Bedtime Book of Magic Carpet Stories by Patricia Taylor along when I built a cozy fort underneath the large living-room table. I'd curl up on the carpet and read the book over and over again, along for the ride with the brother and sister who were traveling around the world on a flying carpet, visiting every country on their journey. Today I'd like to think that this was the moment that not only sparked my inner reading-flame, but also made me love traveling as much as I do. 

Thankfully my memory is a little less blurry about other bookishly life-changing moments. Let's jump forward a few years straight into hell aka high school. Sitting in class I listened intently ... no, not to what the teacher was saying *scoffs* but to what my back then best friend told me about a book she was currently reading by an author named Dean Koontz. In fact, every day she recounted bit by bit how the story of Lightning progressed. Seeing how my teenage years had already been shaped by many a paranormal book, the plot sounded right up my alley. Next thing you know, I had to buy my own copy of the novel and after I read it, many more were to come. To this day Dean Koontz is among my favorite authors and I will religiously read each of his novels no matter how bad they are ... and which, in recent years, they sadly have been too.

Fast forward into the early 20s, and by that I don't mean the 1920s, so stop snickering, and you'll find me faced with a gift I was non too happy about. One of my study buddies had been telling me about Terry Pratchett's books before, yet fantasy wasn't exactly my go-to-genre. Still, she promised it'd be "different" which I duly ignored. Until, of course, she gave me an Omnibus edition with two of his novels, The Light Fantastic and Equal Rites, as rather unwelcome birthday prezzie. Dutifully I promised to read, and read I did. I warmed up to the Discworld in no time and while I ended up being most fond of the stories involving the city guards, I've certainly read them all. That includes my current read The Long Earth which I am in stubborn desperation trying to finish as it literally bores my socks off.

Those have been some of the bookishly magic chapters in my life that introduced me to amazing storytelling. Time for you to go back in time now.

What was one of your book-tastic moments when you were introduced to an amazing author or a particular captivating novel which you treasure til this day? Please share.

4 comments:

  1. oh so i'm the only one who dare to try and exchange that kind of experience with you? oki then let try to make it well


    The first book, the one that started it all was bilbot the hobbit when i was 6.. it was the summer before i start primary school ( being born in march i had to wait until i was six in september to enter as per the rule) we were on vacation where we always went and i was sharing my brother hotel chamber... my brother being older was a avid reader back then and he couldn't stop to sleep ( which he still tend forget again) i was bothered and i wanted to sleep to make me silent he gave me the book... i felt so grow up because he never shared them before and the story was so funny.... before the holidayus were over i had read both bilbot the hobbit and lord of the ring trilogy...

    as you imagine it caused me some problem when starting primary school i was asked to read "baby book"... oh my i hated those and stubbornly refused to even look at them.... my parenst had to prove i was above that when i told the teacher i wouldn't read her stupid book and prefered " the blood's voice" a book i had found in my grandmother house and read a page or two each time i went ( in hidding^^;;)

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    1. part 2:
      During school i was nearly always seen in my course or in a book but sadly in secondary school one teacher destroyed for a moment my love of books...she picked as mandatory reads only sad and depressing books and i couldn't stand them....

      My first english book was one by Tamora Pierce, i was studying english abroad and when i sy studying it was only that ( no visiting, no break i wanted to do it well and the living accomodations were a disaster so i spent even free time at school).....that day the school was closed and i was left wandering the city until i came accross a box of books on sales..... books there were over privced so even second hand were expensive but having nothing to do i decided to take one and skip dinner... the cover of the tamora pierce caught my attention and the back cover conclued the deal.. i spend teh rest of the day in that book before rushing to the shop in hope to find the next one.. without luck. When at home again it's because of those i discovered the english bookstore at teh capital because i so wanted the next one that i looked everywhere until someone spoke to my parent about that shop that thankfully had one and agree to order the rest of the serie... ( i really need to reread those)

      then life became harsher... really hard so much that time and will to read nearly disappeared i didn't think i had the right to read so many things to do, my father condition degrading... but i found in a second handbookshop ( i still went but never bought any exvcept gift for my mother) where Moon called (french edition)by patricia briggs caught my attention... i read the back page and put it back on the shelve before leaving the shop... coming back 5minute later puting back on the shelves again beore retaking it for a third time before finally i decided i could afford to spend 4euro for me for once... and Patricia Briggs offered me some confidence back.... suddenly i felt less alone and i knew that being kind didn't mean to be destroyed, taken advantge of etc that you could be strong and compasionate one didn't exclude the other.... i knew i could become stronger i'm really grateful for that book because at that time i don't know what could have happened if i hadn't found it when i did

      it's also thank to that book that i reread in english as i didn't want to wait for the next one and later it's thank to that one i dared to lurk about some blog before creating mine so i could comment when i felt strong enough ( and i made some great friend since then * hugs*)

      books are real treasure and you can change your tastes , a book can grow on you or simply be the one when you need it( i aheven't read any terry prachett by the way and i fear dean kootz would be too dark for me ( but perhaps you can recommend oen to me( i saw a giveaway for any of his title if you miss one by teh way^^))

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    2. Thanks so much for sharing your book memories with me! It's heartwarming to see how some books find a place in our hearts and minds to be treasured always. BTW I've been doing the take-book-of-shelf-and-put-it-back-again myself many times, but in the end (most of the time anyway) the books called me back to be bought and brought into their new home.

      About your question - some of Koontz' books I probably wouldn't recommend to you while I'm fairly certain you will enjoy others. I'll tell you my suggestions when answering your lovely e-mail! :-)

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    3. it's a pleasure to share memories with you especially those about books, you know you just have to ask^^

      ( books have powers over us... magical in they own way but it's one i'm really grrateful he called to me)

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