I let Facebook know of my recent descent into vampirism: mainly how I am shunning the day for long hours spent roaming around skyrim with mage hands and watching Studio Ghibli movies and reading ASoIaF as fast as I can. I feel like I should be saying how sorry I am that I am able to do this, but really I’m just happy as a clam (a clam tucked up into pajamas and flufflies).

I roped my mom into it too, though she’s only playing Bingo on a horribly stingy Facebook app and providing a warm side leg for the cats.

We occasionally venture out to Starbucks and hiss at the sun.

So there’s my current state. I only made the list for the Spring textbooks today and soon I have to enter reality again. After New Year’s Day of course. I’ll be ringing in 2012 the sci-fi or fantasy style.


Reader’s Coma (and then panic…)

A few times in my life I have had the luxury of spending almost ALL of my time reading. Even fewer times have I been able to stay up almost all night reading.

One of those times was last night. I just finished the Inheritance Cycle (Eragon, Eldest, Brisingr, Inheritance) by Christopher Paolini. I’m one of those people that if I get past the big-bad-bitch/boss (no matter what time of day) in a book, game, series, whatever, I have to see the end through. Right then and there. Much to my chagrin, however, I noticed in the corner of my dimly lit kindle that I was only 83 %or 85% through with the book. Durn!

Of course, there was a ton of loose ends to tie up, and then the name dictionary (elven, dwarven, human, even nomad, which we didn’t get to see…) and then the author’s note. He did what all kind and non-ruthless authors (unlike someone we know whose initials are GRRM) and said a goodbye to characters and then gave us a peek into the future for himself and maybe JUST MAYBE a bit more story for the characters of this cycle.

But still! It was a lot for me to get through, and I ended up finally putting the kindle down with glazed and teary-eyes at about 5-ish, and started my nightly roll-around for an hour until I could finally find a good spot and sleep. I thought I saw some weak rays peeking through my blinds, but I shut my eyes real tight and hunkered down.

Now I believe I’ve encountered the reader’s coma. No, I’m not somehow typing this with my mind or relaying it through telepathy to somebody. I’m not prone, but I sure as feel like I should be. I woke up with a sore throat and a clogged nose (more clogged than normal) and a budding sinus-headache. I guess I was asking for it. I did reach the end of the semester unscathed by sickness, but DAMN right on the peak of my break? It might have been the almost all-nighter with my kindle (without my glasses, bad sign!).

I’m dubbing it reader’s coma. The series has ended, the characters you love and hated are moving on and you don’t get to be with them, and now it’s time to burrow down into another series.Quick! Before reality sets in!

I panicked a little last night and ran through some series firsts that might be able to fill the space left by Inheritance. Cinda Williams Chima’s Heir series sounded promising. It seemed much like Inheritance but branched out a little. But too soon! Too soon. Too close and too soon. I couldn’t get more than a chapter in. I’ll come back to it with renewed ferver at a later time, Ms. Chima, I will.

I also tried Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series (there are TWENTY of those mofos. 20?!). But I just couldn’t stomach another sardonic narrator and any more vampires. I had to stop at the vampire strip club. Maybe another time. When we’re not all juiced up on fangbanging.

And now I think I must return to GRRM. I was in the middle of A Storm of Swords earlier this year, and for some reason had to put it down (most likely for school) and then I think one of my cats knocked the book over and the bookmark fell out. I must have lost the courage then. I hear from other fans and sources that I’m about to stumble into the “Red Wedding”, and from what I hear I am not too enthusiastic.

BUT. I will do it. I think this is the right step. Albeit, it is a long and fearful drop from the easy-fantasy of Inheritance. (Things will ALWAYS work out, against insurmountable odds. What a bastard Galbatorix was, huh?)

It will be bloody. I might cry. But the panic is settling down now. I can go forth! (Hesitantly…) into Westeros again.

Wish me luck.

Reader’s Anxiety

I'm even getting some anxiety from this book pile. I know it's for an artistic look, but YEESH someone straighten them.

I just got immensely discouraged because I had been writing this post in class (I was also paying attention…it’s possible) and hit save draft when class was over…yet I don’t see my post. Anywhere.

So here we go again. I’ll try not to let my frustration color the post.

Reader’s anxiety! Sounds like something we can all relate to in some form or fashion, right? There can be many definitions:

  • That feeling you get when you’re reading a book and AHH anxiety! pops up because of suspense, pain or knowledge of pain for characters (if you’ve ever read the Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R. Martin, you know this feeling) or good writing leading you to a point which you don’t quite know how you got to. Any numerous feelings that can feed the anxiety monster.
  • Anxiety at not being able to finish a book fast enough or having to put it down for, you know, LIFE and stuff because it’s so good!
  • On the other hand…anxiety of having to read a book for school or to finish it just to get it over with because it’s SO NOT GOOD.

These all qualify, certainly, but I feel like another one that most people might not admit to, is the anxiety you feel from not being able to just ABSORB all the books you want to explore. I know it’s because of my impatience and ADD, but for some it’s the knowing that you can’t read all the books and that’s sad. My ex boyfriend said he didn’t like to read because what was the point? He couldn’t read ALL the books so why try one? His logic dumbfounded me, and needless to say, we are ex’s (exes?). Thank God. But back on track…I hope you guys know what I mean when I say that I get a feverish/anxiety-ish feeling knowing there are books out there for me to read and think about and ponder over and OH GOODNESS it’s so awesome, isn’t it? This is a contributing factor to the state of my bookshelf. It’s filled with half-read or just-started books with the exception of one or two not started or a couple finished that I can’t bear to part from.

There’s also the anxiety of the English major, which is having to read copious amounts of literature for school and having copious amounts of literature sitting at home to read for pleasure. Every once in a while the two mix, but sadly not often enough.

I should mention that there’s also the wonderful feeling of just absorbing the aesthetics of reading a book. Slowly. Among those are:

  • smell. THE SMELL. Book sniffers know what I mean. Old or new (both distinct and awesome) they have the best smell.
  • Pages! Ink on paper is special, guys. It just is. Sometimes I get frustrated with books that have especially glossy or thin pages, or the pages where the edges are cut to different lengths (so your finger has to waggle for a while to turn the page). But even if they aren’t the best features, they contribute to the experience all the same.
  • Relaxation and Even Breathing – I feel energized by books (they were never a good way for me to fall asleep) and I always notice my breathing becomes more even. Books DO put me to sleep on occasion, but I blame that mostly on just being freakin’ tired all the time. No matter what my state, the act of reading (or just being ABOUT to read) relaxes me.

I’d like to think that everyone else experiences this, but I know there are people that just can’t stand to be sat down with a book. I see kids all the time on campus that are in a frenzy over a book and you can see the negativity EMANATING off of them. Like the book is the only thing that’s holding them down and if they could throw it as far away as they could I think they would.

If there were a drug that could give you these feelings (yes, even the anxiety! but wait, most drugs come with that at some point, don’t they?) I’d be an addict.

Book sniffers unite!

That’s not me, by the way. I would never wear that much eyeliner. She is rocking’ the flames pretty well, though.