What is a book?
By Amanda Ward
All day the door to another world has been waiting for me. Tempting me, begging me to abandon the duties and responsibilities of the day and take that long for and much needed plunge.
For me a book is a salvation. An escape from the niff naff and trivia of everyday life. Immersing myself into a world where for a couple of hours there are no screams of ‘Muuum’ Of course this is me now, at the ripe old age of 42.
As a kid, from the time I could read, I had my nose in a book. Milly Molly Mandy, Anne of Green Gables and the Enid Blyton books were my safe haven. Away from the bullies that plagued my days, their adventures were an escape, giving me that much needed hug. My imagination soared, as did my mother’s voice when she found the amount of books I had stashed under the bed. I longed desperately to go to Mallory Towers and St Claires. Eat lashings of apple pie and fresh buttered scones, hold hands with my best friend and plait their hair. These stories took me to the top of the Faraway Tree and beyond, where anything was possible.
The moment has finally arrived. The opening paragraphs have me filled with anticipation. The setting of the scene. The wafting hand enticing me to delve deeper. I cuddle up on the sofa, pull a soft blanket over me and sink into the tale that an author has woven.
My favourite books are romances, especially those that have humour effortlessly written. Maybe a medieval romance, filled with dashing knights and ballsy heroines. I love the pull and push of the romance. Do they or don’t they? Ooh they are for a bit…Then, noooooooo when the nasty person comes into the mix to drive the couple apart. Finally the climax of the book where they have their happy ending….Yayyy. After all the angst and heartbreak, just picturing them in each other’s arms and being happy finally…Whoop!. Yet at the same time disappointment that the book has ended.
When it comes to series, I have a thing about reading them all in one hit. Like someone who is addicted to soap operas, I love the ones featuring brothers/sisters, parents/children. Bringing continuation to the storyline. I get excited when a new one comes out.
What can immersing myself in a romance book do for me? Simple. Instead of the real life image of my husband standing in front of me wearing a pair of garishly coloured underpants asking me “Well, what do you think?” and possibly expecting me to leap on him and ravish him into oblivion, whilst trying to avoid waking the kids up (not going to happen) There is a handsome man, who does everything just the way I want.
Closing the book with a smile on my face and a tear in my eye. A simple pleasure that means so much.