Monday, January 16, 2012
“You know you've read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend.”
- Paul Sweeny
My idea of an awesome summer vacation is to sit on a warm sand of the best beach in the world, reading a New York Times bestselling novel, with a Coco Water shake on my side at 7:00 AM.
So far, "reading a New York Times bestselling novel during a summer break" is the only thing I've got. And I get. Every year. Hoorah.
I can't remember exactly when I started to like books. I'm not even sure what's the first book I've read or finished. Maybe it was a Hardy Boys book. Or The Book of Mormon Stories. I don't know. But all I know is that the first time I went to National Bookstore, I was around 8 years old, I guess, I got butterflies in my stomach. And having no idea what that feeling was, I even thought I just wanted to poop. Good times. That was the time I knew that life without books, is life not worth living. Or at least for me.
I don't have a specific favorite genre. I read from Agatha Christie's books to J.K Rowling's, from Almanac to Edith Hamilton's. Though I must say, I wasn't particularly interested with self-help books before. I used to find them lame and that only old, unsuccessful people who are lost and unhappy are the ones who read them. Well, that changed when I got this copy of some second-hand Teenage-Guide-to-something-I-can't-remember book and realized how really helpful they are to open your mind to new perspectives. That's the time I had the desire to own more SHBs like Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and How to Win Friends and Influence People. But oh boy, I never thought they're expensive as heck. Thankfully, e-book was invented. But I don't know, sometimes it still feels different for me when I read from a real book compared when I read in front of a screen. I'm the kind of guy who likes to smell his books before reading it. I'm weird like that.
Lately, I've been having this unnecessary craving to read YA novels. I believe it started when I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. Man, I was so into it that I almost memorized every line I liked in that book... and it never happened to me before! My memory is so bad I know I wouldn't be able to memorize even my girlfriend's number. If ever I'll have a girlfriend soon. Then, it followed when I read A Separate Peace by John Knowles and Looking for Alaska by John Green. And so right now I'm actually wishing someone likes me so much that they'll buy me a copy of The Failing of Our Stars by J.G. or How They Met, and Other Stories by David Levithan. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. I'll even let you sleep with me. Next year. Or not. Just please buy me a copy!
Somehow, they're becoming my new SHB. Like, I feel I must apply the life lessons I've learned from those stories. And that's great for me. I mean, entertainment plus a desire to change, who would think SA fiction would be my drug for depression and discouragements?
And speaking of which, I also love Nicholas Sparks. I know! That's so gay. But I can't help it. I'm such a sucker for tear-jerkers.
on 10:07 AM