Running away has been something I've done since I was a little kid.
I think only pulled the melodramatic "I'm running away from home" stunt once and didn't make it out of the backyard...
But I don't like to face the world at large or any conflicts or failures..
I run away from success, challenges, the people I love...
I'm a coward.
Yellow through and through.
Most of the time I run away into my head.
But when the echoes of the sound of my feet starts to make me feel ill at ease
I've found running away into a story gets me through.
Other people's stories.
Listening to someone else talk about their life.
A good movie or tv show.
Podcasts are a fun one. Especially as of late there's a growing revival of what I call radio theater. With podcasts like The Messenger, Night Vale and Limetown. They bring to mind Orson Wells' 1938 broadcast--
I should digress before I wind up off on a wild tangent.
The best story to run away to of course, is the written word.
In Stephen King's book On Writing he says (and I'm paraphrasing ) "the written word is uniquely portable magic. "
And that magic engulfs me whole.
No matter where I am or what is going on
once I sit down with an open book I am gone.
Blissfully enmeshed with someone else's thoughts and feelings and world.
Returning is never easy but the knowledge that I can run back to it at any moment helps.
In recent years for one reason or another I've deprived myself of that escape. Not entirely. I've taken little jaunts here and there reads few scattered books but I've not truly ran away in quite a while.
I got off from work early January 1st felt restless with nothing to do so I opened up a box of books still sealed shut from my latest move and spotted Columbine which had been in my "to be read pile" for ages and it gripped me.
It wasn't the greatest story ever told, it probably wouldnt make my top twenty list of favorites.
But i found myself transfixed. Certainly worth a read.
I was clearing away the brush and I could feel the gravitational pull of the rabbit hole.
I finished reading it last night and it occurred to me that I should really get through some more of that pile.
Books are heavy to carry upstairs.
I'm a packrat I need to let go of some things.
I've got a lot of books in that pile.
Considering it took me 4 days to read Columbine I thought I might make the lofty goal of reading one book a week this year. 52 books.
Considering I'm a procrastinator I shaved that goal down to 50.
I thought about maybe sliming it down further or making a non specific goal of "reading more."
But I think having a higher number would be more satisfying to reach. I'm employing this blog post and the Good Reads app to hold me accountable.
Going to try to update once a month.
Started book number two on my lunch break: The Patron Saint of Liars.
Wish me luck!