Confessions of a Reader

So I thought I would post another entry for the day. This one has to do with something a lot of people probably can't relate to. I get way too involved in my books.

Yesterday I finished book 5 in the Firstborn Series by Karen Kingsbury. Apart from the horribly cheesy lines about being so in love that you find yourself in that place of butterflies, the characters lives seem pretty amazing. I sometimes feel jealous. Ridiculous? Blame my imagination.

In fact today I was thinking about what it would be like to give up urban ministry and move to a suburb somewhere like Bloomington. It wasn't just what-if thinking, it was wishful thinking in many ways.

I mean, every character gets to fall in love! Then there's the fact of Katy Hart and how her job is directing plays starring the town's children. Then there's Ashley who doesn't even have to work, she gets to play with her son and paint. Everybody loves their job!

Ok, obviously that last paragraph was sarcastic, but there are feelings of wishing I could have that life; as if nothing else could be as good as that ficticious world Kingsbury created.Why does Katy get to be beautiful and find love just when she needs it? And if the Baxters are living in the amazement of God's will in a middle class world, why can't I? Is the happiest life really raising your kids in a "perfect" town like Bloomington?

I'm serious, I can feel a little depressed when I realize I can't meet these people or have that life. I even wondered if I should read the next installment of the series. I mean, will it just be that much harder to finish the storyline then instead of now?

Of course this is nothing new. When I read the O'Malley series by Dee Henderson and found out there was going to be one less book in the series than I thought, I cried. And I also cried in the ninth grade because I didn't have the Melissa Gilbert version of the Little House on the Prairie life. Where was my Almanzo and why did I have to do algebra homework, Laura probably didn't have to, or so I thought.

But then I thought of all the things I love now that I couldn't do in the 19th century. However, the whole Bloomington situation is set in present time, so couldn't I try to find a life like it?I mean, when I fall in love with characters, I really fall in love with them. Maybe that's one of the things that aids me as a writer. But honestly, I go through some emotions with some of these books. Can anyone relate?