I have been riding a reading wave. It is a big, beautiful wave, and I just keep going and going. I know it can't last forever, but boy is it sweet while I glide down its perfectly formed curl, my hand outstretched, skidding playfully along the translucent blue wall of water next to me. I am lost in a dream.
Eh? What's a reading wave? Oh, you know. You're riding one right now, cruising down the face of this wicked and dangerous blog, delighted, enjoying yourself, ready for whatever's next because it all works for you. It all comes home. Bells ring out in your heart. "Ah, what is that?" you say. "Sweet, sharp and burning truth. This feels right."
Lost you? Perhaps you are part of the two percent of our readership for whom it's all a bit more like hilly biking than hanging ten. We will start again, just for you, and when your legs grow so strong that all the hills of this blog are like the joyous surfing of a force of nature, please remember and be patient when we stop to collect all the wipeouts. These are some big waves!
What I mean by riding a reading wave is that all the books I have been reading have been great successes for me. Every book I have picked up for a month I have liked or loved. No diffidence, no wondering why so many people are wasting my time, no doubting that I even like books, no. It is all beautiful. The things I have been re-reading (Wise Man's Fear, My Family and Other Animals) seem somehow richer now that I can look more closely at them, now that there is no need to wolf them down, race through them, see what happens next, decide. I can look around in them and lo, there is their heart sitting plain to see, all beautiful and quiet and clear. The new things I read (The Absolutely True Story of a Part-Time Indian, The Saga comic series, Snow Crash) are allowed inside me where they tear open my oyster heart or crack open my walnut brain and reveal the sweet meat inside. We are good. Bless the books that let us know it. Oh, all these kind books. Let them talk!
Has my judgement gone? Are these books flawless? No. I can think of flaws for every one. But I will not tell you what they are. You can find out for yourself. But first you must run the gauntlet of love.
Is it me, someplace I'm in, more receptive, more ready for the written word, story, for people guilelessly crafting with their hearts? Or am I just reading the right books? Am I just getting lucky?
I don't care! The water throws me. I fall. The water catches me. And I am flying. Cowabunga.