I took a break from writing, outlining new stories, and social media for a few days and went on a reading retreat. I like to think of a retreat not as a withdrawal or falling back (from whatever) in this case, but a mission to treat myself again (geddit? geddit??) with something I lurrrrrrrve so desperately, reading.
I brought along a SUPERB ghost story, a superhero thingy, and a couple of true crime books. No, I didn't get to finish them all on the retreat, but what I did read refilled my well of creativity.
I remember, how, as a child, I used to bring a book out to the double swing we had in the garden, lie down and read. At certain points in the story, whenever I was extra excited by what I had read, I'd put the book on my chest, stare at the blue sky and let my imagination take over. Ahh, bliss.
On rainy afternoons after school, I'd create a nook in the living room, and curl up with a book and a favorite beverage. Somehow, the dark clouds, thunder, lightning and torrential downpour made the atmosphere all the more perfect. Ahh, double bliss.
If I could bottle up those feelings, I'd label them "Complete and Utter Contentment and Joy."
I Opened a Book
By Julia Donaldson
I opened a book and in I strode.
Now nobody can find me.
I’ve left my chair, my house, my road,
My town and my world behind me.
I’m wearing the cloak, I’ve slipped on the ring,
I’ve swallowed the magic potion.
I’ve fought with a dragon, dined with a king
And dived in a bottomless ocean.
I opened a book and made some friends.
I shared their tears and laughter
And followed their road with its bumps and bends
To the happily ever after.
I finished my book and out I came.
The cloak can no longer hide me.
My chair and my house are just the same,
But I have a book inside me.