I was preparing our flyer for the upcoming Main Street Book Club, so I began leafing through the book we’re reading next month – Killer Angels by Michael Shaara. I read this book for the first time back in an honors English class. I remember picking it up to read to get ready for the quiz we’d have the next day, and I ended up falling in love with it while just reading the foreward. Shaara had this unequaled ability to make his readers live his story. He was also, simply put, a gifted writer. He had a way of structuring sentences that captured your interest and were very detailed and intimate. All I had to do this time was reread the forward and I fell in love with the book all over again.
This made me think about the fact that I haven’t felt this way about a new book in some time. I can’t think of another book that I’ve read in the past year that I took such pleasure in reading. There have been many that I enjoyed, but none that I savored – none that I can imagine rereading again and again over the years. One or two have come close, though – Steve Martin’s An Object of Beauty and Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler.
I don’t know to what I should attribute this. As a librarian, I am reading now more than I ever have. I am also reading a wider variety of books. Am I becoming pickier as I get older? Do we experience literature differently now than we did when we were younger? I’m not so sure, especially since some of my current favorite books I read only a few years ago in college. Maybe those books really are just few and far between. And I’ll just have to keep reading until the next one comes along!