That's my question for you today. Why do books get you excited?
I'm thinking about my own crazy behavior lately: staying up all freakin night to finish MOCKINGJAY, then till 3:30am to finish the sequel to EVERMORE; in between times, sifting through the incredible (and copious) contests available right now at WriteOnCon.com. Holy book giveaways, Batman!
And I have to reflect a little on what it is about fiction that gets me so stinking excited...
Is it the new book smell?
Is it the Disney effect?
Is it the unreal other-worldliness?
Is it the prestige of saying, "oh yes, I read that in one sitting, minus bathroom breaks"?
Is it the vicarious thrill of experiencing an adventure through someone else's eyes, ears, mouth, and nose? (Head, shoulders, knees, and toes, knees and toes, knees and toes.)
Is it the sense of completion, that all is right with the world, when the last page is turned and there are no further epilogues to be read?
Why do I love fiction so much?
Why do you?