Okay yes, it's late, but there's a reason, you see. I've been reading. All day, in fact. Dishes have gone unwashed and half the day went by before I even thought about picking up a hairbrush. Yes, it's pathetic, but it's what I do. When I read, that is. And that got me thinking. What is it about books that transfixes us so? How do we get swept so completely into a world that we leave the real one behind? And how do we, as writers, capture that magic in our own works?
I have a few theories of my own about this, but I want to hear from you. Do you have the answers? What in particular do you like about certain books? And how does it affect your own writing?
Tell me. I'd love to know.
~Emily White
