Bookworm

What is it about reading that does such a wonderful job of shattering one's perceptions of reality? Sometimes it is just a bit of history that pokes holes in what I thought were facts. Little details that will cling to the inside of your skull, ready to bounce up your throat and pounce into the face of an unsuspecting party goer. (No no no, it happened like this. Seriously, I read it for a class! Totally ruined Pocahontas for me.) The sort of thing that might seem utterly silly, but makes you look kind of smart. Or pretentious. But it could be worse, because It can also be something as complex as a work of fiction that changes how you view the world. With any luck it isn't going to leave you pining for a place that doesn't exist. (James Cameron's //Avatar// makes you want to do what?!) Or maybe books just do this sort of thing to me? Books are just as good as any summer blockbuster. No need for any shlocky 3-D crap. You try putting something like //that// into a book and see how far you get. Actually... might work with a Nook. Where was I going with this?

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That's right, thank you Windows Media Player. Reading, books, yeah. Like many of the children in my generation, I started getting into the reading habit after I blitzed through the first three books of the Harry Potter series. That's right, Harry Potter, and I made sure to read every book in the series. It has always been that way, once I start a series, which can be difficult when a book is only so-so. It was not a bad series, don't get me wrong, but it has not aged well for me. I had a series crisis after I started playing Dungeons and Dragons and realized that Harry couldn't even throw a measly ball of fire or a lightning bolt. I had to upgrade to a different spell slinging Harry, compliments of mister Jim Butcher. This series came from my dad's bookshelf, which is where a lot of the books that I find come from. Recently I have spread out, but it boggles the mind at how my father keeps informing my life choices. Now, aside from //The Dresden Files//, books set in the grim darkness of the forty-first millennium also takes up a good amount to shelf space. From the triumphs of the Grey Knights (freaking brits keep giving my word processor fits...) to the comedic bumblings of Commissar Ciaphas Cain (alliterative appeal!). These sorts of things just spawn thoughts and ideas within me, stories that I want to live out--or at least as closely as possible. Fiction is so much fun, though I keep a grounding in reality. I have to. Which is not to say that I don't find myself day dreaming from time to time about how wonderful that sort of thing might be. [lost in thought]