On the Bookshelf
In the above photo I’m “in my moment” pretending to be Belle. You know the scene.
First off, Belle had brown hair so I was convinced it was only appropriate.
Second, she gets to ride her sturdy steed, Philip. (Working on that one…)
The reasons go on to include Gaston (come on, you know he’s got some pretty awesome lyrics to his song), the fantastic dinner scene with desserts galore in the “Be Our Guest” number, and then there’s the extravagant the ballroom scene.
But perhaps what really had me smitten was the library.
Beast has a grand library with shelves upon shelves of glorious books. There’s a huge fireplace that just begs to be lit and cuddled up to while reading a good book.
It’s an image of complete comfort and homey bliss.
No library I’ve ever come across has compared to the glory-that-be in the enchanted castle. That doesn’t stop me from making frequent trips to Barnes and Noble, Borders, or libraries.
It didn’t even stop me in Paris from finding the first English bookshop established on the continent.
What I’m getting at is I love to read. From recipes to DIY to articles to books…the list goes on.
Book reports in school? Please. Those were candy to me.
Like anyone, though, I want to read what I want to read.
I went through a phase (rest assured, it was a short one) where I read books on certain lists and as per specific recommendations. While they weren’t in any case “bad” books, they weren’t my thing.
I was reading them because I felt guilty for reading what I wanted to read. I felt like I should spend my reading time with intellectual novels or books that must be good for you since they “made the list.”
I quickly learned that was wrong.
But even if it was right, I think I would have gone rogue.
I mean, come on. If I could backpack through Europe, I could read what I wanted to read.
Why should I read it just because so and so says to? I also found that the majority of these books (alright, in my case and experience, all of these books) were depressing. They didn’t leave me uplifted or inspired. They didn’t have me rushing to get back into them. I wasn’t lying awake at night thinking about what would happen next.
You get the picture.
Sure, I was curious. Sure, I wanted to find out how the story would end.
But was I ever really satisfied? No. I only had the satisfaction that I could cross the book off my list and wouldn’t have to read it again.
So here it is. I love YA fiction.
I’ve loved it for years and I don’t see myself breaking off our engagement anytime soon.
But what’s on my bookshelf (or rather off the shelf since I’m reading it)?
Fire by Kristin Cashore.
And you know what? I couldn’t be happier that I’m reading what I want to read.
By the way, here’s a little true life for you. I judge books by their cover.
So give me a mug of tea or hot chocolate.
Coupled with a good book?
I know Belle would be pleased.
And don’t worry. Soon enough I’ll get my fireplace.
What genre of books do you like to read? What are you reading now?