enJOY it

I love books.  Like they are up there with my top five favorite people things. 

I devour them.

Which I originally thought was a bad thing.  Because the faster you read, the quicker you finish, the sooner you have nothing else to read.  However.  The good news is that there are over 172,000 new ones published every year.

And even I am not that hungry.

And so I read.

And while I love "real books" for their legitimacy and ability to make me look cool on airplanes, I have no shame in admitting my addiction to chick-lit.  Beach reads.  Simple stuff.  Where the main character is a pretty female with a fantastic job.  She has a best friend with a crazy name who lives off a trust fund.  Her love life is a disaster.  She gets hurt by a slick guy and then ends up falling for another, who happens to be understatedly handsome and secretly wealthy.  Her parents are either dead or drive her crazy.  She has mishap after mishap until she eventually conquers all.  The End.  Yes.  That is chick-lit.  In an eggshell.

Can you not see the reason for the addiction?

I read them not for wisdom, vivid adjectives, or ability to encourage self discovery, but for pleasure. 

And then, today, while reading Savannah Breeze by Mary Kay Andrews, I got it all:

"Didn’t you ever want to do anything just because you loved it?  Because it felt good, pure and simple?"  As said by Harry Sorrentino, who will undoubtedly sweep BeBe Loudermilk off her feet within the next 34.5 pages.

Oh, Harry Sorrentino, you rock my life.