As you can see by my post from Genre Fiction post earlier this week, I love my genre fiction. But by far Fantasy is my crutch. I love reading that more than any other genre out there. I can’t even begin to explain my deep love for the magic and other worlds of this genre.
I can talk about the yearning to go to Narnia, Le Cirque des Rêves, Wonderland, Brakebills, or a dozen other lands.
I can talk about wanting to learning to be a magician like Hermione Jean Granger, Tiffany Aching, Briony Larkin or Julia Wicker.
I could tell you how much I wanted to be a hero like Lyira, Wendy, Cimorene, Lady Katsa,or Alice.
But what I can’t explain, what I don’t have to explain if you are a part of Armchair BEA, is how much I love these books for their stories. About how many times I can read Stardust or Graceling or The Magicians and still be excited about the adventures. About how excited I am when I find something new and different like Daughter of Smoke and Bone and how everyone in the world must read it now!
And mostly how sad a feel for people who to get books, don’t speak book, who don’t realize that in addition to bread and eggs and milk your in case of emergency must include a stop at the library.