The other night I was reading a book and as I became more immersed in the story I could feel my body physically responding to the emotions the story was drawing out of me. This is not an uncommon occurrence for me, but it got me thinking and I realized that there are not many people I know who would understand what I was going through. In my limited circle of family and friends there are very few who truly “get” what it is about books that creates such passion in me. Most of the people I know find that emotional connection through music, some find it in movies, but very few find it through books.
Whenever I try to explain exactly what it is a book does to me I am usually looked at as though I have grown a second head, which is admittedly better than the people who think they know exactly what I am talking about but as they expound upon it I realize they have no idea. For me, the power of a book (or movie or television show for that matter) is in the characters and the story they are telling, and it is one of the most powerful forces I have ever encountered. It goes so much deeper than simply feeling a generic sense of happiness or sadness that you forget about an hour later as you go about your daily life; it is something that is felt deep within you and lingers with you for days or weeks, and even after you have moved on to new things you can pause to think back on that story and instantly feel those same emotions awakened within you once more.
I often wonder what I would look like to someone observing me as I read. I am not someone who just gets into a comfortable position and reads with a blank expression. I laugh out loud, I smile, I scowl, I gasp, I cheer, I exclaim and talk back, I cry (sometimes to the point where I can no longer see the words on the page), I make hand gestures, and occasionally I find the action so intense I have to sit on my knees so that I can move in motion with my anxiety. My poor husband has gotten so used to this that he hardly notices my strange behavior anymore and no longer takes offense when he comes to tell me something and I hastily wave him away without even looking at him because I am in the midst of some crucial scene. While most people find all this external display from a book odd, they can at least somewhat understand what I am talking about since it is tangible, quantifiable. It is when I attempt to explain the things going on underneath, the things that are causing this strange display, that I lose people.
I have been sitting at my computer wracking my brain for adequate words to describe what happens inside of me and nothing I come up with seems to do it justice. Whenever I am reading a great story there is a veritable storm of emotion brewing on the inside of me that I don’t know how to explain. How do you explain the feeling created in your chest and gut when tragedy strikes? How do you explain the happiness that bubbles inside of you so strongly that it causes you to cry when you watch a character who has struggled for so long finally overcome? How do you explain the wrenching feeling of frustration that makes you want to pull your hair out or reach through the pages and shake the character for being so stupid? How do you explain that nothing more than words on a page can be so intense they cause your heart rate and breathing to grow more rapid? How do you explain the feeling of emptiness and pain that will not leave you because of the way things ended? Sure you can use the words and phrases authors use to help create those emotions in the first place, but unless you have experienced these things personally those words are not going to help explain it any more than they helped create it.
It can be very lonely sometimes having such intimate and important encounters – even if is through “just a book” – and not having very many people, if any, you can share it with. This is one of the many reasons I am so grateful for the online communities created through blogs, fansites, and social networking sites. These things have allowed me to find and connect with some of my kindred spirits. I may personally only know a few people who “get” it, but all I have to do is go online to find a host of friends who understand the power held within a good story.
So true. Words are wonderful little things aren’t they. You could also say “A Good Story Has Power”. There’s nothing in this world better than a book, except maybe chocolate.
Haha! For me it would be ice cream
I know exactly what you mean! I do it all the time. It is even worse when I’m at work in the break room. My coworkers have also come to expect it though.
Lol! I was never able to read at work, but my coworkers all knew what I was like just from listening to me talk about books!
Thanks for the comment!
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Really! I can so understand your feelings when reading a book. One book, Tell A Thousand Lies, made me cry, laugh, gasp and all the feelings came out as if like a volcano eruption. I was actually thinking about the plight of the main character a whole day. It feels good too when you find books that actually makes you feel for the characters. There are very few books like that and we realize that, that is what a good book should be like.
In my family, my sisters read very much and it is from them that I got this habit of reading and I grew to love it. They suggest books for me and I enjoy reading them too. But in my friends, there are very less ones who enjoy reading. For most of them, library is a waste of time. There are few who like reading but they read only during in the library hour. Reading is never their favorite time pass or their most favorite hobby. So there are bit of similarities in us in reading too!