Not much. You?
Over a year since my last post? I guess there may have been some issues that have prevented me from indulging in the old blog. (Personal, professional, familial, good, bad, horrible...) I'll try to catch up a little on a few bookish things here...
I find that as the darkness closes in, books and reading (and re-reading) become my medication. Fortunately, I'm someone who buys books--many and often. And it's usually a decade or so before I can summon up the the fortitude to take them somewhere--a library or charity shop--to pass them on to another worthy home. So there are always more than enough worlds at hand to lose myself in, if necessary. And I'm certain that I've talked before about the deep need I've had over the years for certain authors to carry me through whatever it is that is making life in general so horribly gleek and stresticarious. (I just made up those words to describe how I feel about life during a sort of general malaise or depression. I always whine about my general malaise and depression, so using made up words to describe itmakes a nice change.) They are not copywrited so you may use those words if you like or feel free to make up better ones. This is Liberty Hall.
How about re-reading? Not just as a cure for what ails you, but in general for pleasure, since unless it's been assigned for some reason, or for research you can't get out of, I can't imagine re-reading things that that don't give you some sort of thrill or joy. I've talked about it a lot. Sherlock Holmes, obviously, has been a favorite since practically infancy. P.G. Wodehouse for almost as long, so much so that I actually co-wrote a book with Elliott Milstein on the subject of Wodehouse and his world that came out last year. Washington Irving, Vincent Starrett, Christopher Morley, Charles Dickens, Patrick O'Brian are all writers I return to constantly. They, in a manner of speaking, feed me when I'm hungry and clothe me when I'm naked, and tuck me into bed when it's time to go to sleep.
What about you? Who are your go to re-reads? I'm curious.
I find that as the darkness closes in, books and reading (and re-reading) become my medication. Fortunately, I'm someone who buys books--many and often. And it's usually a decade or so before I can summon up the the fortitude to take them somewhere--a library or charity shop--to pass them on to another worthy home. So there are always more than enough worlds at hand to lose myself in, if necessary. And I'm certain that I've talked before about the deep need I've had over the years for certain authors to carry me through whatever it is that is making life in general so horribly gleek and stresticarious. (I just made up those words to describe how I feel about life during a sort of general malaise or depression. I always whine about my general malaise and depression, so using made up words to describe itmakes a nice change.) They are not copywrited so you may use those words if you like or feel free to make up better ones. This is Liberty Hall.
How about re-reading? Not just as a cure for what ails you, but in general for pleasure, since unless it's been assigned for some reason, or for research you can't get out of, I can't imagine re-reading things that that don't give you some sort of thrill or joy. I've talked about it a lot. Sherlock Holmes, obviously, has been a favorite since practically infancy. P.G. Wodehouse for almost as long, so much so that I actually co-wrote a book with Elliott Milstein on the subject of Wodehouse and his world that came out last year. Washington Irving, Vincent Starrett, Christopher Morley, Charles Dickens, Patrick O'Brian are all writers I return to constantly. They, in a manner of speaking, feed me when I'm hungry and clothe me when I'm naked, and tuck me into bed when it's time to go to sleep.
What about you? Who are your go to re-reads? I'm curious.
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Kristina
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Dec 23, 2019 06:33PM
I reread two childhood favorites this year that I haven't read in decades. The first was A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, a novel I read at 11 or 12, and it had a profound effect on me. I loved it just as much this summer as I did back then. The second book was The Westing Game. I did reread it a few times as a kid, and it was still enjoyable to me now. It was as also therapeutic reading these books again at age 39, and feeling the same magic that I felt as a kid.
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My rereads are Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, The Stand... these books bring me comfort and the worlds that the bring forth are rich in detail.
