An Incomplete List of the Best Things That Can Happen to a Reader
As of this moment, my daughter is on the longest reading bender of her young life. She picked up the Percy Jackson series about a week ago, burned through that, and now is on to the Heroes of Olympus part of the saga (is it a saga? I don’t know. She talks to me about it and I try to follow, but she is learning that relaying the complex web of relationships and beat-by-beat plot recaps are not the stuff of riveting conversation).
And I said to her, on one of several of our “must-immediately-get-the-next-book” missions to the bookstore, that what she is doing right now just might be my favorite reading experience. To be in the middle of a series, a good long one, that you love and that you still have a lot to get through. That feeling of urgent abundance where it seems like you are going to be in this story with these characters forever and that the real world seems just a little dimmer than usual and the page a little brighter.
This got me thinking about what are the other best things that can happen to you as a reader. Being mid-gulp in wolfing down a series is clearly number one for me, but the rest of these aint bad either.
There’s a New book by a Favorite Author
This is even better if a) it’s been awhile since their last book and/or b) you might have even stopped thinking/remembering that there ever could be a new one. Which is related to….
You Pre-Ordered a Book, Forgot About It (Or At Least When It Was Coming Out), and It Shows Up on Your Doorstep
This is as close as adults can get to that feeling kids who still believe in Santa must feel. That the world is magical, cares about what you want, and unlike most things, makes good on it.
Someone Actually Read a Book You Recommended, Read It, Loved It, and Now Wants to Talk About It
I am never going to be an actor, musician, comedian, juggler, athlete or other kind of performer who will be on stage, giving it their all in the hopes that the audience will love it and then, even before the final bend at the waist, the audience rips out of their seat to thunderous applause.
This is nothing to having someone say “Oh my god I loved that book you recommended! the part where….”
You Read a Sentence That Succinctly, Miraculously Articulates Some Vague But Powerful Feeling You Have Been Walking Around With for Who Knows How Long
Are we sure this, this right here, isn’t why we do this at all? To have someone chip away, even barely, at the unshaped marble rock of life and give it the barest definition?
You Guessed What Was Going to Happen and It Wasn’t Even That Obvious
I am not the sort of person who actively tries to guess who did it or will they end up together or is the time-traveler actually the main character in the future or is it the main character’s great-grandson. This is especially true of literary fiction. But every now and again my reading Spidey-Sense revs up and I somehow know how things are going to turn out. And not because it was sign-posted from page 1 or that the book turns out to be sorta paint-by-numbers. Ok, maybe not exactly what is going to happen, but the shape of it. The sense of it. The “this is what this book is all about” of it. This is second only to…
Holy Moses, I Did Not See That Coming
This isn’t quite the opposite of the above because in this case while here you definitely did not guess that she was going to actually still be alive/actually is dead or that he has been an alien/Republican the whole time, you still feel like it somehow had to turn out this way. Even though you wouldn’t have been able to play complete-the-novel at page 253 with 74 pages to go.
“Have You Heard Of This Book About Crabs/The 5 Ways Children Are Like Bugs/The History of the Snowmobile?”
Not only have I heard of it, I just read it and thought I was going to spend the rest of my days shuffling around with no occasion to talk about how the idea for the jet turbine was literally thought-up while someone was taking a shower. (this is true).
The Super Popular Book You Just Knew Was Bad Is In Fact Bad
Not only is your taste superb (naturally) but your literary sense is so refined that you don’t even need to read the book to know that it is somehow both underbaked and underwritten. That it will be as subtle as the Hollywood sign and as insightful as an IKEA instruction manual. And you finally cave and read it because after all it turned out you sorta liked The Hunger Games and can we just not be a snob about everything all the time? And then it is deliciously, gloriously, affirmingly terrible.
God, What Am I Going to Give My Niece/Colleague/Love of My Life? Wait Actually I Know Exactly To Get Them.
I knew there was a reason I keep a TBR with a number of books that as a comma in it. And that I read about books that I won’t even put on hold at the library, get in an inconveniently large pile all at once, and never so much as crack the spine. It is for moments like this when my mom who likes quilts or my brother who is into close-up magic has a birthday coming up and I know there is a memoir by a magician-cum-quilter that I can get for BOTH OF THEM.
I Have Never Heard of This Author, For Some Reason Picked Up This Book That Actually Doesn’t Sound That Interesting, and It. Is. Incredible.
No, wait. This is the best thing that can happen to a reader. To be reminded that the world of books is so big that not only are there new corners to find, but new continents. And if you’re lucky, there are 11 more books in the series.
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