Where’s the value in escaping into a good book? Well, for me, it’s been a lifelong brief escape when reality becomes far too overbearing. As a child we moved from place to place and state to state as my biological father attempted to find a job that he could keep. He was a difficult man and therefore, holding on to a job was a difficult thing.
Always being the “new kid” presented certain dilemmas. Being the painfully shy “new kid” was even worse. So I would trudge off to school every day, either paying attention and working hard or daydreaming out the window if it got boring and then trudge back home, anxious to lose myself within the pages of the latest Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Bobbsey Twins, Black Beauty, Tom Sawyer . . . it didn’t matter. If it was well written I wanted to read it. Put me on the back of a horse, give me a sandwich, apple, chips and a good book and I was a happy camper. And for those brief hours I was chasing down the bad guys, speeding by on the back of a magnificent black horse and rafting down the river with that rascal, Tom Sawyer, life was sweet. This set a precedent in my life that exists to this very day.
Even now, I get a thrill when I pick up a new book on theology, romantic suspense, western, historical fiction, biography . . . shoot, even the guy who wrote those two books on the Romanovs a few years ago accomplished what my science professor couldn’t. He made me understand DNA and all its nuances. Books are my escape, they are my protection from a world that has gone crazy. And when I turn the last page on the latest adventure I stand up, I stretch and then I get busy with my insanely busy life. Bring on the deadlines, the laundry, the dishes, the floors, shoot – you can even bring on the toilet. I can do it!
What’s your escape from life when it gets a little too crazy?