Provoked by the comments on this post and then this actual post “A Note on How I Experience Stories.” My main thought on that post was, well, if I read like that, I wouldn’t read. I can’t take reality as it is. I need my reading to escape (or avoidance, maybe that is a bit more accurate), I like to view a world safely through the window of a book. I think this is also maybe part of why I don’t like labelling reading as a hobby that one should continually increase, I know it is one that can be used to avoid living and learning and experiencing.

I’ve heard a lot of people say they like such and such character because they can see themselves in them or they feel they are experiencing the world as that character or they relate to that character. Well, I don’t relate either to that sentiment or to characters. And if I see myself in a character, it often is one I don’t like (how’s that for encouraging me to self-reflection?!).

I can’t do that, and if I could I would prefer to just observe. Part of my rereading obsession is returning to the safety and comfort of old favorites. Part of the reason I read within my comfort zone is because I’m reading for comfort. I don’t really care to add tons of details of violence and horridness, I already know of plenty from the news, from history, from my fears, I just don’t get why people add these things to books or why they should be in them, I probably will label many more things gratuitous than many people perhaps would.