Last night, I went to see Neil Gaiman read from his latest book entitled, The Graveyard Book. While sitting in the audience I realized how much I enjoyed being read to. There is something utterly magical having words read aloud from the page paint pictures inside your head.
Growing up, my parents use to read us stories before bedtime. Truly, that was my favorite part of the day. When my parents quit reading to me, the time before bed evolved into my personal reading time. I read before bedtime until I went to college. (My pleasure reading was traded in for exploring the night life.)
Last night, made me realize how much I missed being read to. (I know there are audio books but it’s not the same.) I still read for pleasure but there is this aching void.
Who knows, I maybe calling up my favorite local authors and Death Pixies up for a bedtime story.