Daily Inkling Prompt: Skimming It
“Find a book you’re not familiar with. Read the back cover synopsis, and skim a few of the pages. Then, tell us what happens in the book by filling in the gaps with your imagination.”
I was sitting in a large lecture hall, filled with people. I was sitting in the front, along with my husband, his younger sister, her husband, my mother-in-law, and my husband’s oldest sister’s husband. Continue reading “Dream Journal 8/7/18 | Sister-In-Law’s Book”
The Daily post’s Daily Prompt 2/5/2016 | Second Time Around
“Tell us about a book you can read again and again without getting bored — what is it that speaks to you?”
I wish I could say that I was the type of person who could retreat back to my favorite books for comfort, or just for the sake of memories… but I’m not. I’ve been an avid reader my entire life, and I’ve read over 1,000 books since elementary school (I got an award at my senior assembly in high school for having checked out more books than anyone in the school, a total of 937 book over the course of 4 years). However, since graduating high school in 2008, I’ve read a lot less. Having moved from small town to small town several times in the last nearly 8 years, access to a decent library has not been easy to come by. There was also no book store within 45 minutes of where I live, up until 2 years ago, and it isn’t a very good one.
I’ve probably read… maybe 12 books in the last 6 or 7 years. Since having my son, the amount of time I even have to read has all but vanished, but even if I did have a few moments to myself, there are a dozen other things that I should be doing instead of reading. But even if I wanted to blow off showering, or vacuuming, or feeding myself to read a book, I just can’t. Why not? Because I can not reread a book that I’ve already read. I just can’t do it. There are only a handful of exceptions to this rule, and they are all from the same series, I’m sure you can guess which. The same goes for movies, as well as most TV show episodes.
I can not re-watch/reread anything. I need that element of surprise to push me forward. If the element of surprise is ruined, like if someone spoils it for me, I won’t watch or read whatever it is. I just won’t. Is that weird?
The ONLY exceptions to my weird little rule are the Harry Potter novels (but only in chronological order). They are just that good, and I relate to them so much. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone was the book that set the wheels in motion for me, and literally changed my life. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever read any other books more than once. As far as movies go, I can watch the Harry Potter movies over and over, but I do lose interest after a while. I’m easily distracted. The one movie that I have seen at least 200 times, however, is Spaceballs. Quite possibly the greatest movie of all time. As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I used to only be able to sleep if I had this movie playing, and used to use it as background noise in my old apartment, before I had internet or cable. It’s just such a great movie! A few others I can handle are David Bowie’s Labyrinth, Pan’s Labyrinth, and Mirrormask.
So, I think I might be broken. Any time I’ve ever told anyone that I can not reread a book that I’ve already read, they think I’m crazy. I can’t explain it. Well, I can, I guess, since I just did…
I’m going to go now. Anyone else out there have a hard time getting through movies and books that they’ve already finished?
Thanks for reading, friends!
3-4 years in the future.
I took Liam and a friend of his to a large museum, and we were in the dinosaur exhibit. There was another large group of children there, possibly from a school, and they were in the same room as us. We were just about to leave the room, when a woman rushed up to us, and tried to grab Liam’s friend. I quickly pulled both boys closer to me, and asked her what she was doing. Instead of responding, she started screaming that I was kidnapping the boys from the group, and security came rushing in.
I stood there, while everyone surrounded us, and the boys started crying. Security tried to pull them away, and I kept repeating that I was Liam’s mom, and that they were there with me, but the woman kept screaming and causing a scene. Holding both of their hands, I turned and ran from the room. We ran through several other exhibit rooms, until we got to an empty wing of the building, which looked futuristic/space themed. We hid inside of a large, silver spaceship exhibit, just in time for a large crowd of people to run by, hollering angrily, in search of us.
After they passed, we slipped out of the spaceship, and went down the opposite corridor. It was really dark and dilapidated, like it had been abandoned for years. There were glass cabinet displays, covered in cobwebs and dust, lining the corridor. We could hear voices shouting behind us, and started running. We hit a dead end, and could see light in the darkness coming closer and closer. We backed up against the wall, which swung suddenly, throwing us into a secret room. The room was decorated lavishly, and was lit with candles and torches. Liam’s friend started crying, saying he wanted to take a nap, so they two boys went to lie down on one of the antique couches.
There were two doors on either side of the room, one of them was a bathroom, the other led to another dark hallway. I walked over to a large bookshelf in the corner of the room, and grabbed a random book from the shelf. The cover of the book had several lines of hieroglyphics, and the pages were also filled with them. I sat on the other couch in the room, and started looking through the book, even though I couldn’t understand it. I could hear the crowd on the other side of the wall, but it sounded as though they were in the room with us. I ignored them, and kept looking through my book. There was a small, circular window in the room, and I could see the sun setting. The lighting in the room turned pinkish orange.
I got up and walked to the bathroom, which was massive. In the middle of the room was a large, stone bath, like you’d find in an old bath house. I pressed a button on the floor, and it started to fill with bubbly, steaming water. I took my clothes off, and stared at myself in front of a large wall mirror, the size of the entire wall. I took my hair out of the ponytail that it was in, and it was red and purple. I climbed into the bath, and opened the hieroglyphics book again. Liam and his friend were awake, and I could hear them talking and running around in the other room. The sun had set, and the room was bathed in a dancing glow from the candles strewn around the room…
And that is the last thing I remember before my son woke me up at 4:40 in the morning.