Growing up, I hated to read. I would fake my way through book reports, I would moan and groan at the thought of having to read a book. A chapter in a text book was more than torturous and the thought of being glued to 200 or so pages made me downright ill. I avoided it at ALL costs. I hated everything about reading. I had friends that would always have their nose stuck in a book. It was something I totally could not comprehend. A total waste of time.
Then I got married. My husband was another one of those book geeks that could read for hours and hours with no problem at all. So I tried. I went to the library, got me a card...checked out a few books. Only for me to return them a couple weeks later only having read a chapter.
Then I got more determined. I wanted to like to read. I wanted to see what was in this passion that so many people had. So I made it a point to read every night before bed. Unfortunately, Id make it for about 3 paragraphs and then Id be sound asleep.
I am not sure when my passion for reading actually decided to join me. I don't remember which book or at what time of my life. But now, I can honestly say I LOVE TO READ. I feel nekkid or lost when I dont have an ongoing read. I have read so many I dont even have a count anymore. I really like Christian Fiction. No, not the Little House on the Prairie style, but like the Potluck Club or the Yadda Yadda Sisterhood. Those were some favorites, and the Penny was another good one. I dont like saucey stuff. No, I am not prude, but I just dont have the need to read in depth how someone manipulated another in sex...I dont like it when cuss words are written every other sentence and the author feels like they cant say what they need to without em. I just like a good story. I like a little suspense a lotta drama and of course some humor.
I guess the thing is, I finally figured out what it is that "I" like to read. For so many years I watched those around me. One of my best friends in school read Stephen King non stop. So I read some of that too. I read it until I read one of his books that I totally hated the ending of. I felt cheated and betrayed as a reader. Especially to read the entire 300+ pages. I never read another one of his writings again. Then I tried to read the novels written by Danniele Steel as someone else did. I sooooooooooooo could not do it. 2 paragraphs in...I was bored stiff. How about some sci-fi? Really? I have a hard enough time with reality, let alone trying to get into flying people and man eating rabbits. Now that I have girls that are reading I try so hard to help them find what they like. Not what everyone else says they should like. I want so much for them to learn the passion now while they are young. Now when their minds are so fresh.
But anyways...the reason for my whole post....
I just finished one of the best books I have read in a long time.
Since we dont have cable, I seriously didnt know that there was a movie out there. I didnt know that that was the reason so many of my friends had read the book. I didnt know that that was the reason that everyone was talking. And to be honest I am thrilled. I enjoyed this book down to the very last page where it talks about the author. Yes, it is THAT good of a read. I know that it is fiction, but it does help shine some light on really how difficult the segregation of blacks and whites was. Living in the hills of Tennessee where I am quite certain that still have active KKK clans in some areas, makes it all the more real. Truth be told I am NOT predjiduce. At least not towards the color of ones skin. I know some beautiful and remarkable black people and I know some really trashy and poor excuses for white people too. Wow...how far our world has come along.
Anyways. This book is about a white lady who writes a book about the black maids of the South. Their incredible tales of lovin on white kids and making everything just perfect for the fancy white lady's events. Their tragedies and the fun stuff too. The author did an amazing job of writing as tho a colored person of that era was actually talking.
Now, I have finished it and I feel lost. Like my life long love has just left me standing at the train station. I have no direction. The memories of each verse are still in my mind as though I read every word within the last day rather than the last couple of weeks. I giggle at certain things that were said and I get angry remembering other events. But I stand here, naked. Alone. Lost. Am I the only one to feel this way? That when one finishes a book they feel like they are destitute to floundering around?
I have picked up another book that I have been trying to read for the last 3 months. Its one that I found in the discount bin at the book store. But it is sooooo difficult to read. The words dont flow and the story...well its slow. But for me, it is a good filler. Something to read while I wait for the next great one.
Anyways...so what I am really trying to say is....GO GET THIS BOOK!!!! The Help.....by Kathryn Stockeet. It quotes NPR.org on the front cover as saying: "This could be one of the most important pieces of fiction since To Kill a Mockingbirld...if you read only one book...let this be it." Seriously, I could not say it any better.
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