Reading is an amazing thing. Every book every written is made up of the same 26 letters and a small number of punctuation marks, and yet each touches us in a different way. We lose ourselves in books, allow our minds to be transported, come to know the characters as dear friends.
Reading allows an escape in a way few other things can, because it allows respite from this world; it allows us to escape for the time that book is in our hands. Thought provoking, emotional, completely engrossing, books are so important.
Which is why it’s difficult to write blog posts on books.
Firstly, do we aim our posts at people who have read the books already, or not?
Because if someone’s not read a book, they won’t want to read a post full of spoilers. If they have, they don’t want to be told what to think.
Books mean different things to different people. These different meanings, feelings, reactions, are what make books special and personal. Yes, you can tell someone about the metaphors or similes, or about the cultural context of a book, but you can’t teach them the joy that you get from reading a book, which is the reason for reading them – not the metaphors.
Reading a post about a book is not the same as engaging in a discussion about it – comment threads can only go so far. This is why I struggle writing posts about books.