I love the moment when I’m reading and I forget to breathe. There is nothing like being so caught up in the beauty of the interior world that is being shared that I forget about the rest of my physical packaging.
While I speak often about things that I enjoy and don’t enjoy about stories, make no mistake that there are few things that bring me greater pleasure than a good book.
I still remember the first time I read “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot and sucked in my breath with each consecutive image. The closing lines were:
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown
I was twelve years old and I didn’t understand everything in the poem.
But when I put the book down and closed my eyes, I knew that I wanted to read stories that made me feel the way those lines made me feel.
It’s not just imagery of course that can pull the breath from my body. Characters that make me care, plot lines where the resolution is both brilliant and inevitable can hold me so close that I look up only to realize that the day around me has passed me by.
There are few stories that can maintain that kind of moment forever.
But those perfect, beautiful moments that create a world stronger than the one around me?
Those are the moments I read for.
My breath is precious.
A story that can steal it is valuable beyond words.
Some moments and images are perfect in themselves, whole and complete
I love reading. I love the imagery and stories that overwhelm me with their beauty.
I am always working towards creating perfect moments within my own writing. If you would like to see my attempts, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here.