In sixth form, me and a couple of friends were keen fantasy readers. We read so many series and would have animated discussions about these characters and worlds that we’d discovered. I still read predominantly fantasy now, but as I don’t get to see those friends as often, I don’t have as much opportunity to share my thoughts on these books.
Last week, one of these friends got in touch to recommend a fantasy book she’d read, and it was like regressing back to being 17 again. We set up a WhatsApp group for the three of us to have our own book club and share recommendations. I was honestly so happy. I couldn’t stop grinning at the thought of us 10 years on behaving exactly as we did at school and getting overexcited about a new series. To be fair, the WhatsApp currently consists of one friend who’s finished the series sending GIFs while she waits for us to read more, but it’s become a more communal experience all the same.
It’s precious, the excitement you can feel about sharing a book with someone else when you just know they’re going to love it too. At a time when we’re craving connection, sharing stories is special because books connect us so intimately. Whether it be fantasy or any genre, we build a world inside out head when reading and it’s a wonder to share it with someone else.
I don’t normally feel quite so philosophical about reading because it’s such a part of my life, what with working in publishing too. Perhaps I take it for granted. But this was a reminder of why I love this bookish life I’ve chosen. I hope you’ve found people to share stories with too.