I could explain to you in detail the stop in which I bought my favourite book. A second hand book store in northern ontario over looking the lake. A could explain to you in great detail where I was at the moment I first opened the pages of this book and found myself engrossed in it. Sitting in a hammock looking out at the Georgian Bay waters of Ontario. I could also tell you many other stores which I associate with certain parts of the novel because that when I read the lines upon the page for the first time. I could explain to you in great detail where I was at the moment while I read the very last new words.
When I read a novel I carry along stories of my own with it. Certain novels I associate with different periods of my life or different parts of the world. I remember these moments as they happened in the book as my own events happened in mine. My literature is so intertwined with who I am that I could not bare the thought of life without it. Sometimes I find myself lost in a character, their stories, their emotions overtake my own life. Sometimes I read and feel as though the character’s words better explain myself better than anything I had ever thought of.