Do people still call kids who read "bookworms"? (Every once in awhile I'll here someone call a girl a "tomboy," and cringe. That is so last century.)
Anyway, I was a bookworm as a kid, and I haven't changed much, although my busy life sometimes precludes my bookworminess.
But not always...like when I discover a really, REALLY good read. As I did over vacation, when I devoured Wicked, by Gregory Maguire. I know, I'm late to the party, and no, I haven't seen the show, but would love to.
Anyway, it had been awhile since I wanted to devour a book...oh really, sometimes I feel like the book devours ME. I can't quit reading--I couldn't as a kid, either, eating up my Scholastic paperbacks like so much popcorn. I'll read in the bathroom, in the car (no, of course, not while I'm driving), in bed, instead of watching TV (which we all should be doing anyway), at the beach (last week, anyway), and I have even, don't tell anyone, snuck a book to work and read when I shouldn't have.
Wicked devoured me.
I loved the examination and argument of what makes someone wicked; I loved the creation of a place that was both familiar and alien; I loved the humor, the earthiness, the sensuality, the imagination. I loved the WORDS--the tiktok thing, the Galinda-to Glinda, the many changes to Elphie's name. It was fun to read--like so many lighter things I've read--but it was also thoughtful, and full of ideas.
And I love talking about books to other people, and it was fun to ask J. and R. at work how they had liked it. I was amazed R. did; and I was surprised J. "didn't like the ending." (I was fine with it.)
And, bookwormies, the BEST thing, you will know what it is...a sequel! Since I'm old, and have read a lot of books, I know not to expect TOO much, but still: a sequel!
Son of a Witch (oh, nice play), it came today (Thank you! Amazon.com used books! Thank you! Amazon for a month's free trial of Amazon Prime!).
So I will fight myself to NOT read this gem, because next week is book club, and I'm working on Everything Bad Is Good for You, which IS good, and full of, again, good and different ideas, but it doesn't have that devouring possibility of Son of a Witch.
But it's here beside me, calling my name. I think maybe Madame Morrible may have suggested I read it right away.