Ever open a book and have a variety of items spill out? Some might find that a nuisance. Not me. I purposely leave them there. Why and what for, you may be asking. Read my newest essay on The Millions and you’ll find out!
Here’s a brief snippet from it:
Being a reader is similar. You turn the page of the fictional story while an hour of your own passes. The characters breathe, laugh and cry, and so do you. When you finish their tale, you close the book and set it aside, dreaming of their ever-after, while stepping out into yours. But you don’t leave the story as you found it. No, it’s forever changed. The evidence is there: a chocolate smudge, a tea stain, beach sand, dandelion spores, a stray hair, a note, a name, a message. The story has been splintered into a duplicate image, a reflection of you in bits between the pages.
Yours truly, Sarah
P.S. I’ve just returned from a gorgeous, long weekend in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Of course, I had to find a used bookstore and peruse. I came home with a lovely 1946 Modern Library edition of Faulkner’s The Sound and The Fury and As I Lay Dying. I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for the southern boys.