This past week my mom has been in town, helping out with my little turkey boy post-surgery, saving my bacon on numerous occasions and in general just being a good person to have around. Something else I have rediscovered on this visit however is that I seem to have gotten my bookish tendencies (unsurprisingly) from her. Imagine that. When I think about it, my mom is the single most important reason why I am such a bibliophile in the first place. She and my dad always had stacks and stacks of books lying around the house, silently tempting us kids to visit the various exotic worlds of Tolkien, Kipling, and Twain. My mom's one of those parents that read every single book I ever brought home, be it for school or one a friend lent me, she always wanted to find out what I was reading. And later would inevitably draw me into a discussion about it. A sneaky tacit I'll have to remember for the future as a way to communicate with unresponsive teenagers.
Until I found myself firmly surrounded by all you marvy book bloggers and readers, I'd never before met anyone besides my mom who enjoyed reading for the sake of
reading like I do. Now, our reading preferences don't necessarily always align: I'm more of a YA/fantasy type of gal while she likes classics, mysteries, and non-fiction - what I call 'thinker' books; but we are always willing to try out what the other likes and recommends. So I'm always a little bit giddy and a just a teeny bit nervous when she comes to visit because I want her to love the books I've recently discovered as much as I did. And then I want to discuss them. Habit, I guess. I always set a few aside for her but mainly I just let her browse my shelves until she finds something that looks interesting or new. On this trip so far she's gone through (remember she's only been here 4 days folks):
Crossing,
A Song for Summer,
Bewitched & Betrayed,
Mind Games (which she set aside because, as she said "It had a little too much sex."),
Dairy Queen and just tonight I laid
my beloved President's Daughter set on her bed, hoping she'll be as awed by them as I am.
To my surprise (although not really, cause who doesn't love these books?) her favorite so far has been Eva Ibbotson's
A Song for Summer. Like me, she was instantly overwhelmed by Ibbotson's lush and descriptive writing style. My mom loved the characters, the setting and of course, the ending. "Perfect" was her final verdict. I agreed wholeheartedly.
I think I had forgotten how nice is it to actually sit down with someone, face to face, and discuss books you have both read and enjoyed. I also had forgotten that rush you get when you recommend a book to a friend and they wind up loving it as much as you hoped they would. Which is why I think I'm on a bit of a high at the moment seeing as how I had specifically picked out
A Song for Summer as one she'd love. Although since our conversations have me itching for a re-read, I guess the apple really didn't fall too far from the tree in this case.