The Books and I

I got a mail yesterday, an e-mail. It was one of the numerous e-newsletters that I subscribed to. Why worth mentioning? Well, it brought me news, tidings from the distant land of Alagaesia. Christopher Paolini is coming out with the last book of the Eragon saga, Inheritance! God knows I've grown a few inches taller over the wait. (The neck, got it? Plus, I think I did grow taller, by centimeter though.) It's coming out in November. Yea, months to go still.

I still remember my first encounter with Eragon. It was back in high school. I was at the awkward age of 15 or 16. The shoes were white, the dress was blue, AND THE BAG WAS HEAVY. Sharp ten on bed for normal days, blazing light through the nights during exam week. (Granted, it was the light only. And yes, days were classified into exam day and non-exam day.) Life was as boring as it could dip, as crazy as it could soar. Time passed as fast as slow. Friends were as best and insane as they could be. Sleepy mornings, draggy afternoons. The sky was blue, and dreams were big: be an astronaut, own a bookstore, build a castle, write a book, etc. It was when we never complained of the cafeteria food. (At least for me.) It was when fast food was a luxury. It was when recess time meant library time for me.

I was always on hunt for books. When I saw Eragon, I'd just finished whatever there was of Harry Potter for the Nth time, craving for more like a vampire craving for blood. While browsing through the books, Saphira caught my eyes. It was love at first sight. I jumped right in, and days after, I resurfaced alive with the urgency of the Ice Age squirrel seeking his acorn, seeking the sequel. Ever since then, I have been waiting. And it has been more than five years.

So the mail actually reminded me of those books that accompanied me into adulthood(So-called). Harry Potter and Eragon are by far my favorites. The story sort of grew along me. I feel connected to it somehow. All those eager-waitings, those staying-ups whole night when I finally got the books were part of my awkward adolescence. They helped shaped it. They kept me alive. (Seriously. When SARS hit, I was thinking: Please don't let me die, at least until I finish reading Harry Potter. I was that unambitious. Or you can say 看破红尘.) There were the books that never made it to adulthood too. R.L. Stine's, Christipher Pike's, Hardy Boys, Sweep Series ( I do miss Hunter and Cal. Now that I've mentioned it, I really really miss them! =( ), etc. This post shall be my tribute to all these books, (mentioned or not), thanks for being there with me when I was as lost as I am right now. ;)