Some people crave food. (I do too.) But I also crave other things. (Books, mostly.)
A Curse Dark as Gold. The Chalet School series. Neverwhere. Harry Potter. Ophelia. Lady Macbeth's Daughter. Macbeth. To Kill a Mockingbird. Gone With the Wind (merciful heavens, who thought I'd ever say I crave that book). Lord of the Rings. Pride and Prejudice. The Dark Crusader. The Guns of Navarone. Force 10 from Navarone. Every Alistair MacLean book, really. Journey to the River Sea. Star of Kazan. Anne of Green Gables. The Battle for No. 19. Double Click. Confessions of a Listmaniac. City of Beasts. The Bartimaeus Trilogy. Indian in the Cupboard. The Septimus Heap books. City of Ghosts. The Emperor of the Moghul series. When Amma Went Away. Growing Up, by the same author. A Series of Unfortunate Events. Moby Dick (now I'm really losing it). The Graveyard Book. Coraline. The Little House series. Gone-Away Lake. Return to Gone-Away Lake. The Dark is Rising series. Chronicles of Prydain. The Inkheart trilogy. Eragon. That entire series, I suppose. Anything and everything by Jill Mansell. The Casson Family series.Homecoming and the entire Tillerman Cycle. The Chronicles of Narnia. Cry of the Icemark. Every Enid Blyton ever written, the Famous Five books in particular (Julian, my love). A number of ghost stories--that one about the ghost in the mad scientist's old house, the one with the doll, the one where there's a girl being drawn to a house with the floor that's falling apart--basically ghost stories written for slightly older children, all set in summer in the countryside. The Fudge books. I could go on and on.
I crave the feeling of lying on the floor in my room, curtains blowing in the breeze from the ceiling fan (dear god, how I miss ceiling fans), and reading for hours on end until the sun went down and my room was too dark to read in anymore unless I got up and switched on the light. Sneaking to the kitchen looking for a snack when I got hungry. I crave sitting quietly in the corner of the library at school and devouring books. Sitting on the stairs near the football field or by the swings and reading late in the afternoon while waiting to be picked up or during a free period. Reading in the bus on the way to school and on the way back. Listening to music on my old tape-recorder while I read. I crave reading late into the night with the fan on full because I'm too stubborn to go to the cooler rooms. Reading by the dim light of my night-lamp because it was a school-night and I was supposed to be asleep. Being woken up half an hour or more early on Saturdays, just so I could read.
I crave so much more than food.
A Curse Dark as Gold. The Chalet School series. Neverwhere. Harry Potter. Ophelia. Lady Macbeth's Daughter. Macbeth. To Kill a Mockingbird. Gone With the Wind (merciful heavens, who thought I'd ever say I crave that book). Lord of the Rings. Pride and Prejudice. The Dark Crusader. The Guns of Navarone. Force 10 from Navarone. Every Alistair MacLean book, really. Journey to the River Sea. Star of Kazan. Anne of Green Gables. The Battle for No. 19. Double Click. Confessions of a Listmaniac. City of Beasts. The Bartimaeus Trilogy. Indian in the Cupboard. The Septimus Heap books. City of Ghosts. The Emperor of the Moghul series. When Amma Went Away. Growing Up, by the same author. A Series of Unfortunate Events. Moby Dick (now I'm really losing it). The Graveyard Book. Coraline. The Little House series. Gone-Away Lake. Return to Gone-Away Lake. The Dark is Rising series. Chronicles of Prydain. The Inkheart trilogy. Eragon. That entire series, I suppose. Anything and everything by Jill Mansell. The Casson Family series.Homecoming and the entire Tillerman Cycle. The Chronicles of Narnia. Cry of the Icemark. Every Enid Blyton ever written, the Famous Five books in particular (Julian, my love). A number of ghost stories--that one about the ghost in the mad scientist's old house, the one with the doll, the one where there's a girl being drawn to a house with the floor that's falling apart--basically ghost stories written for slightly older children, all set in summer in the countryside. The Fudge books. I could go on and on.
I crave the feeling of lying on the floor in my room, curtains blowing in the breeze from the ceiling fan (dear god, how I miss ceiling fans), and reading for hours on end until the sun went down and my room was too dark to read in anymore unless I got up and switched on the light. Sneaking to the kitchen looking for a snack when I got hungry. I crave sitting quietly in the corner of the library at school and devouring books. Sitting on the stairs near the football field or by the swings and reading late in the afternoon while waiting to be picked up or during a free period. Reading in the bus on the way to school and on the way back. Listening to music on my old tape-recorder while I read. I crave reading late into the night with the fan on full because I'm too stubborn to go to the cooler rooms. Reading by the dim light of my night-lamp because it was a school-night and I was supposed to be asleep. Being woken up half an hour or more early on Saturdays, just so I could read.
I crave so much more than food.
No comments:
Post a Comment