For me reading offers me two kind of escapism. The first one is diving into the book itself. I might be sitting on a bus stuck in traffic or in bed after a long day at my mundane job, but in my mind I am studying potions in the dungeons of Hogwarts or Surviving the Hunger Games. In books I have been to College in America, I have worked in a London Theatre, I've been a writer for a rock magazine, I've flown through the air on the back of magical beast and I have fallen in love over and over and over.
But I also have a different form of escapism when I read.
When ever I am travelling some where I like to take a new book with me. Something to help me while away the time. I spend a lot of time on trains travelling from the South East of England all the way up to Scotland, so I have plenty of time to take on an adventure. Or maybe something to read while I sit by a pool in Spain, or as I drive through Germany on my way to a Christmas market. I enjoy the journey far more when I have a book full of companions to keep me company. Then when the last page is done and the book is closed and I slot it into my book shelf and I can thank them all for the entertainment they offered.
Then a few months later when I am low on money and want a book to read I pull one of these books down and I start to read. Not only am I back in these fictional lands, but I am also back on that train to Scotland, or I am in Düsseldorf admiring their 10ft Christmas trees. Re-reading those words I first read doing something so exciting transports me back there. It sparks memories of those trips that had dimmed in my mind. I love it. They are like little time machines taking me back to all these great places where I met great people and have fond memories.
My favourite, like so many readers of my generation, are my Harry Potter books. Because I have re-read these books so many times I have so many memories attached to them. I can remember my bedroom and how it was decorated. I remember sitting reading them until the sun started poking its head above the trees after getting them at the midnight launches. I remember holding the book in one hand and making a sandwich with other because it was literally too good to put down.
Also the first four books are paper backs. They have creased and bent over time, and when I hold the well worn covers in my hand you can see how my hands have grown over the year as the indents where my fingers grip the book have rippled out over time. Creases and folds over lapping each other as each time I re-read and fill these pages with my own stories and memories.
When I read between the lines I am reading back my own life. The memories I book marked there for me to comes back to later. So I can relive those holidays or just sit in my childhood bed room as a twelve year old again.
Rella
