Have you ever only liked a book everyone else loved?
Have you ever liked a book but not wanted to finish it? And I’m not talking about not wanting to finish it because you are so in love with the story/place/character that you never want it to end. I’m talking about…well, I’m not even sure what I’m talking about.
My friend recommended The Time Traveler’s Wife before everyone else was recommending it. She read it multiple times. Every time we saw each other, she asked if I read it.
I tend to shy away from hyped books, but this friend is usually right. So, I finally borrowed it.
I like the book. The Chicago mentions are fun. The looped, turning strand of time is interesting. I feel I know the characters and I care about them. I’m in awe of the structure. I am in awe of the writing.
When I picked up the book, the pages flew; I wanted to find out what happened next. But once I closed the book, I wasn’t aching to pick it back up and start where I left off. I was OK leaving it closed for days. For days! What’s wrong with me?
I started reading it in the airport and I think that may be part of my problem. I was anxious to get on the plane…and when I’m anxious my mind tends to wander. As I read, my mind wouldn’t settle. Just as scent can trigger memory, maybe opening the book back up when I was home made me restless. Since I don’t like being restless, I wasn’t in a hurry to trigger that feeling again.
So here I go from weird to weirder. I have good memories of Silence of the Lambs. There was one semester in college that I had to read the book and watch the movie three times. I did so happily because the first time I read I was on a relaxing vacation. I started reading during the morning, lounging on the dock that jutted into a lake. I ended the day (and the book), curled up by the fire in a cozy cabin. It was a great day and, by extension, I have warm fuzzy feeling about the book, no matter how graphic.
Does this ever happen to you?