I Never Knew Books Could Do That

“I never knew books could do that.”

“Do what?”

“Take me away from this place and make me forget.”

It’s intermission for “Beauty and the Beast” at our local Junior High (my middle kid—the one I hardly ever mention here for no good reason other than her distinct lack of spazziness, which is a good thing—is in the show. She’s playing a “silly girl;” one of the little estrogen crowd who is in love with Gaston. And–as a side note– it’s totally against her type.  She’s more the pensive, open-hearted, why-would-I-flirt-it’s-so-silly-and-seems-rather-disingenuous type.) (On the other hand, it seems to have had an effect on her. She told me the other day that maybe she’d consider wearing makeup on a daily basis now. BUT JUST A LITTLE.)

 Anyway, Belle and Beast just had that little convo up there above.  And it reminded me of the first time I read “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” Until then I’d been unwilling to read anything but picture books. I mean “How can you read this? There’s no pictures!”–as Gaston would say. Guess I thought that anything with nothing but words had no power to transport.

But man! There was magic in that wardrobe! And a bunch of kids who went in one side and came out the other into a whimsical new land where animals talked and a Lion ruled and a winter witch was trying to take over the world. You didn't need pictures. The way Mr. Lewis wrote you could totally see it. But it was even better, because with your mind running the show the story could go far beyond an illustration and actually take you right into the adventure. You could live it.  You could, as Beast said, go far away from where you were and forget any stress or pain or fear in life. What a lovely thing.

I was so inspired when I first traveled to Narnia in elementary school that I wrote to C.S. Lewis to tell him how wonderful I thought is book was. I never heard back. Might have had something to do with the fact that the man was dead. But he wasn't, was he? I was reading his words and even though he was no longer with us, they were transporting me right into his mind and his dream, and it deepened my thoughts. (So much so that I set up a chair and spent afternoons reading beneath a tree in my backyard. Then I left the book on the chair to get a drink and it started raining. And I forgot about the book. Had to pay the library for it, as it had swollen to 3 times its normal size. That story had burst right out of its binding.)

That would be a mighty fine thing to do for people, I think. Write something that transports them (not bursts them out of their binding). Something that fills them up. That sparks new thoughts and vision and ideas. Something that makes people laugh unexpectedly.

Yep. That's what I want to do. Hope to do. Am working on doing. And so many other people are too. Thanks to everyone who writes anything! You're making the world a better place.

I'm starting with a cookbook–because, why not? It's a soup cookbook. Just sent it to the editor. It'll be an eBook (I'll be doing Kindle and iPad signings at Costco. Using a sharpie. Or a screw driver. Whatever you want), and it'll be highly tested. Because my kidlets grew up on those recipes. So did I–many of them. And hopefully it will make you smack your lips, and smile or laugh. Because there's some of that in there too.

Right. That's where I'm starting. How 'bout you? Are you writing anything? What is it? And maybe you can share your favorite childhood book as well. We've all got summer coming up. A good reading list would be grand.