Fairy Dust

There is this beauty about certain books. This unmeasurable sense of joy that sweeps me off my feet and makes my mind travel to beautiful places, to positive thinking. 

Have you ever felt like this while reading a book? Have you ever felt the reality fading around you giving its place to a new, exciting and mysterious world? 

I know you have. That’s the beauty of reading, that’s the beauty of fiction which speaks to us in a different language, images and settings.

Not every book can do this though. Even if the story is great, the writing perfect, even if I enjoyed a book, it doesn’t mean it spoke to me that way. I’m talking about the special readings. The ones we crave to read and reread. The ones who stay with us long after we have finished them and we’ll keep recommending to friends until they are pissed off with us.

For me those books are Jo Nesbo’s books. I’ve read only three, but I find myself addicted to his writing and his stories about Harry Hole. His writing, the way he presents his stories, the words he choose, are all forming a chain which wraps around my wrist and pulls me in, dragging me further inside the book. And I want to stay there.

Every time I finish one of Nesbo’s books I don’t want to read anything. I want to sit back let my mind imprint the story I just read. This writer inspires me, makes me want to learn more about writing and work more on my stories.

Like King had said in his book, On Writing, Harry Hole is for me the man who sits in the corner of the room, smoking his cigar and making his magic.

He is my fairy dust. 

Who is making your magic?