(Monday Musings is an awesome meme over at Should Be Reading—And if you aren’t
reading her, I totally recommend
checking her out!)
Are you currently collecting
any authors? Why?
Do you have all of their books? If not, why not?
Did you buy all the books in the collection at the same time, or
did you buy a book here, a book there? Have you actually read all of the
collection? If not, why not?
And for all of you naysayers out there, saying, “Nay,
this is Tuesday not Monday.” Well, then
I would say that we have a lot more pressing matters if you’re using the word “Nay”
in conversational speech. Or that I have
bronchitis right now and the days of the week are kind of blending. Take your pick.
And back to the
question at hand:
YES. I TOTALLY COLLECT AUTHORS.—not that I keep
them in little jars to look at, or locked in my basement (‘cause I don’t have a
basement), or anything… Really, I find
it’s much more practical to collect an author’s books, rather than the actual
author—while the author does indeed house the entire knowledge base characters,
settings, plots, to their stories, I find the books to be ever so much more
portable –you can fit so many more books in suitcases and on shelves than you
can authors—And with ereaders, I can have my entire library at my fingertips
and not have to travel with loads of luggage.
*sigh* Yes, books and ebooks are
definitely the way to go—I do not in any way recommend kidnapping or storage of
actual authors.
[end tangent]
Well, truthfully, I think when
it comes to books I might have some addictive and hoarding tendencies. If I find a good author, I want to read
EVERYTHING they’ve ever written. I
absorb books like a sponge. (A sponge in a really dry climate that will dry out
and need to keep absorbing things, because it will never be fully sated.)
And especially if that author
has a series (which so many of them do), they’re like Pringles—how can you read
just one book in a series???? How can
you not want to know what happens next???
In my tweens and teens I had
two bookshelves filled with five series of Sweet Valley books (SV Kids, SV Twins, SV High, SV University, and various mini-series SV Senior Year, Jessica and the Unicorns, Elizabeth
in England, and all the various Chillers, Thrillers, Super Chillers, Super
Thrillers, Sagas, and Holiday editions.)
Don’t judge. And last February,
when they released Sweet Valley Confidential: Ten Years Later, I
snapped that one up, too. Don’t
judge. (Pringles, remember.)(Pringles
laced with crack.)
But while the majority of my
Sweet Valley books remained on my shelves for quite a few years, there are
other authors that rarely leave my sight, my go-to books that come with me
pretty much everywhere I go. Favorites
that I can pick up anytime, anywhere, and dive right in. Stories that I’ve read over and over again,
and still leave me as breathless and exhilarated every time I read them as they
did the first time.
Top of the list: Tamora Pierce. I’ve been reading her books the longest—since
middle-school/high-school. Reading. Rereading.
And first in-line at the book-store to snap up the next one. Even if I’m living in a remote bookstore-less
location (pre-ereader), and have to drive an hour away to get her newest
release (at least twice). Her books went
with me to college, to Pennsylvania when I spent a year on the east coast, a
few months in Montana, on to San Jose, summers in Yosemite, here in So Cal, and
thanks to my handy ereader, her books also came in very handy on my last few
road trips. And when Mastiff (Beka Cooper Series #3) was
released, I downloaded it at midnight from the comfort of my bed. Also, when I got my ereader, she was the
first author that I started replenishing my library with.
*******************************
Harry Potter. Up until my junior year of college, I abstained
from the Harry Potter craze, holding myself aloof, I being much too old, of
course to be reading children’s books.
Then, while home for Thanksgiving, I went to see the first movie. It was magical. I was enchanted. And me, a lover or reading books of movies I
love, had picked up a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (adult cover, of course) to read sometime, in case
I enjoyed the movie.
Back at school, a few weeks
later (the week of finals, in fact) when it came down to studying, and
procrastinating, I picked up my copy of Harry Potter and finished it that
night. The next day I went out and got
myself a copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Harry Potter #2)
. I had to settle
for a children’s-style paperback, because the adult covers were coordinated to
be released with the movies. And again,
I finished it the same night. Realizing
that this was not a fad, on my next trip to the bookstore, I purchased both the
third and fourth books—Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
(children’s paperback, again, adult cover not having
been released) and the newly released Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
(hardcover).
And again, I read them each in one night.
Somehow, I also passed my
finals.
Now, I think most booklovers
will tell you, there’s nothing worse than a mismatched collection. So it wasn’t long before I got Harry Potter
and the Sorcerer’s Stone with the children’s paperback cover to match the
others. And then went and got the first
three in hardcover to match the fourth book.
And of course, I picked up the adult covers as they were released. And a few special editions. And when I was in Ireland, I picked up a set
of the British versions. And audio books
for those long back-and-forth drives home from school. And the first four in French. Ne judge pas.
And like Tamora Pierce, Harry
Potter went with me from the Midwest to the East Coast to the mountains and the
West Coast. We spent summers in
Yosemite, and then moved down here to So Cal.
And as soon as I get access to
Pottermore, I am looking forward to adding a digital collection of HP to my
ereader.
*******************************
Each author, each series, each
book opened up new worlds of fantastically rich words and characters. With Helen Gurley Brown and Winifred Wolfe it
is their use of language, turns of phrases, the technicolor images of the past
that spring to life with each turn of the page.
With Agatha Christie it is the mystery, the who-dun-it, the quirky Miss
Marple and Hercule Poirot, the headstrong Tommy and Tuppence (my favorites). With Bloody Jack, the innocence, adventure,
ingenuity, humor, and adventure (yes, I said adventure twice, because there’s that much adventure). And Tera Lynn Childs—Magic. Humor.
Wonder. Fun.
*******************************
And I’m still trying to put my
finger on it. I mean, obviously, I enjoy
the writing and think they’re wonderful stories. But there’s more. A pull.
I cannot get enough of these books, these characters, this world, these
stories within stories.
As a native Midwesterner, I feel
a tug to the familiar landscapes, weather, and even the names that ring of home. Even the characters remind me of people I
grew up around. So, perhaps I feel a
little bit of homesickness.
But there’s also travel and
adventure—To Ireland (A Green Journey) where I’ve been and feel like I’m there again as I’m
reading. To Italy (Dear James), where I have yet to
go, but dream of seeing—and even more so through the eyes of this author.
There is romance. Epic.
Sweeping. Romance.
Lonliness. And sadness.
Devastating. Heartwrenching. Sadness.
Sickness. Illness.
Old age.—Might there be nothing scarier than reading about old people
both on the brink of life and the cusp of death???
Everyday normality. Murder.
Wrongs done. Good people. Bad. Well-meaning.
And hope. Faith.
Religion.
As a rule, I generally keep my
religion and spirituality very personal, and take it in my books with a grain
of salt. I generally steer away from
faith in books, finding it false, or preachy.
The stories are so full of faith and religion, religious people—but do
not come off preachy. Instead
thoughtful. Insightful? So why do these books, these people, these
stories, make me feel so powerfully close to something I am wary to name out
loud????
I find myself going back to
these characters day and night. I never
skip ahead. I never read books out of
order (if I can help it).
But here I couldn’t stop
myself.—A Green Journey, Hassler’s
fourth book was made into a movie, which is how I found the books. I debated, but in the end decided to see if I
liked the book as much as the movie, before getting the rest of his books. I usually get books one at a time, as I’m
reading them. But I had to get all of
his at once—I couldn’t imagine getting to the end of one and not having the
next book to start.
And while I couldn’t allow
myself to read ahead—I couldn’t help myself from reading the books out of order—knowing
what happens to my favorite characters (Agatha and James), before going back to
the beginning to meet all the other characters.
Indeed, they are companion
books more than a series, and so I didn’t jumble things up too much by reading
them out of order.
But just as strong as my
compulsion to read Hassler’s books, is my compulsion to SHARE them—To see if
others see what I see. Feel what I feel.
*******************************
(\__/)
And back to books:
