Have you ever encountered a book that you couldn’t pick back up? Yes, you heard me right. I happen to have fallen in love with a novel so much that I can’t get past page 72…

I have renewed this title not once, not twice, but three times from the Manhattan Beach Public Library (sorry to whoever was first on the waitlist). Truth? I would’ve renewed it a fourth time if they had let me. But I couldn’t, so I placed the order on Amazon for High Fidelity by Nick Hornby.

Haven’t you ever liked a book so much that you didn’t want to read it, because reading it would mean finishing it, and finishing it would mean that it was over? I’m sure you can relate if you start ruminating about one of your favorite television shows, wherein watching each episode grows exponentially more painful—especially if the series is coming to an end.

It seems so counter-intuitive to not be reading a book that one genuinely enjoys. Perhaps I’m still a little surprised at how it came into my life in the first place…I was on my way to leave the library one afternoon when I walked past a shelf containing some staff recommendations. The mystery-esque cover and risque-sounding title grabbed my attention enough for me to add it to my outgoing collection. Later, at home, I connected with the protagonist within the first few pages, but beyond that, recognized in the author a deep literary desire of my own…one that I have yet to express publicly nor commit to privately (alright, I feel like I’ve said too much). So there Nick was, suddenly a part of my life, sharing his male perspective on the world and the women who have made their mark on him some way or another…his words pouring out unapologetically, causing me to smirk and laugh out loud (something that normally only happens while watching Seinfeld). 

I’ve always preached that riding a bicycle makes you a better driver behind the wheel. So, too, is true for reading and writing. For whatever reason you decide to pick up a book, I hope you get stuck on page 72.