I know I am smitten by the book.
My Sunday School teacher even asked how we spend our downtime today.
All I could think of was everyone in the house being asleep most nights, as I sat down with a book.
I learn, I struggle, and I am transported.
Part of me has been at work in days past, and part of me has been on a cattle drive to Montana with Woodrow Call.
Do you know how that feels?
To live a separate life, in a fictional place.
I have seen bullfights with Hemingway, and depravity in the west with Cormac McCarthy.
Parts of Faulkner haunt me.
I hope you find something you love, too.
“I was completely smitten by the book. I longed to read them all, and the things I read of produced new yearnings. Perhaps I might go off to Africa and offer my services to Albert Schweitzer or, decked in my coonskin cap and powder horn, I might defend the people like Davy Crockett. I could scale the Himalayas and live in a cave spinning a prayer wheel, keeping the earth turning. But the urge to express myself was my strongest desire, and my siblings were my first eager co-conspirators in the harvesting of my imagination. They listened attentively to my stories, willingly performed in my plays, and fought valiantly in my wars. With them in my corner, anything seemed possible.”
–Patti Smith, Just Kids