Books books books books

Sometimes I get to thinking about life. And I wonder, how much is one person supposed to bear? Not just about me, my life is brilliant and I am blessed beyond compare, but about people I love. Friends and family, who seem to have so much to bear. Illness, family members causing pain and turmoil, lost relationships, aching and fear in their hearts. And then...my mind turns to those I have met in books. I recall that in the history of mankind, suffering is a part of life. The older I get, the more experiences I have, the more books I read, the more people I listen to....it all seems to make sense. As Viktor Frankl said "It is through pain and suffering that we assign our individual meaning to our lives"... I think of the boys in Eggers' "What is the What"...and what they endured. I think of Anna Karenina in Tolstoy's novel of the same name, and how having all the materialistic comforts that life could provide, all she wanted was love. I think of Scout in Harper Lee's "To Kill A Mockingbird"...and how at such a young age, she was wise beyond her years and knew people so well. I think of Hemingway's "Farewell to Arms" and how Jordan tried to be a good man by fighting the fascist's..and found Maria...only to lose her. I think of Barbara Robinette Moss in her autobiographical novel, "Change Me Into Zeus's Daughter" and how her mother exposed her to music, art, and the beauty in the world, amongst their life of crippling poverty and an alcoholic father. I think of Princess Daisy in Judith Krantz's novel of the same name, and how she overcame so much and carried such a heavy secret, finding what she always wanted inside herself! I think of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series, and how the story of Jamie and Claire is the epitome of finding what you need in the last place you could ever imagine. I think of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series of books, and I smile and laugh belly laughs thinking of "Cupcake" and the messes she gets herself into. Kind of like me and my life, which I have been told is like watching a train wreck!

So many books, so many stories, so much humanity. These books, and the people I met inside the pages, have become part of my story, as I read and I relate to them, and their emotions.

I shudder to think of a world with no books. I cringe when I imagine my life without my books. I learned to read in the first grade, (I think)...I read my first "Chaper Book"...(Nancy Drew)...in the 2nd grade, and I have had a book that I am in the process of "reading" every single day of my life since. Oh...I have learned so much. I have cried, and laughed out loud. These characters have become real people to me, and I think of them often.

At work, one of our Professor's who teaches teachers how to teach kids to read, has a sign on her door that says "A Book Worth Banning is a Book Worth Reading"...I say Amen to that!

I have so many favorite books, favorite authors...I couldn't begin to list them all. But I'm going to try. This list is part authors and part titles. I can't remember all the authors.

James Clavell, everything he wrote, but particularly "King Rat".
Judith Krantz
Tolstoy, every single solitary word, even ALL the ones in War and Peace
Hemingway, everything, but particularly "For Whom the Bell Tolls"
Diana Gabaldon, everything she wrote and will write
Wally Lamb, everything
To Kill a Mockingbird
Tale of Two Cities
Jane Eyre
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Love in the Time of Cholera
The Red Tent
Pillars of the Earth
John Jakes, everything
Once an Eagle, Anton Myrer
Nicholas Sparks
Mitch Albom
Breakfast with Buddha
Jodi Piccoult
Janet Evanovich
Eat, Pray, Love
Moby Dick
Jack London
Mary Stewart, every single word
William Manchester
Stephen King...almost all of them, some are too "sinister"...but all the latest ones, and the early ones The Stand was the best!
Zen and the Art of Motorcyle Maintenance

Oh, there is so much more, but my brain is tired!

I love books. I love fiction. I love it because reading fiction teaches me about life, and in feeling someone else's emotions, whether it is first, second or third person, I get more in touch with my own. And understanding your own feelings, being afraid of none of them, and being able to accept them....that is, according to Carl Jung....where the rubber meets the road!