Actually, Ms Reavis doesn’t really know me. She did thank me for a review I gave one of her books, but that’s all there is as far as our friendship goes. The relationship is really about what I’ve been doing the last couple weeks when I should have been sleeping.
One of the perks of being retired is that I get to sleep in and get up when I feel like it rather than when the alarm clock shrilly demands that I roll out and get busy with my day. I also get to order my days however I like. I can take the time for a lovely long walk on the beach with the dog, and I can step away from my desk to spend time chatting with neighbors who pass by my little bungalow here at the beach. I can do laundry at 10 am or 10 pm, whenever the notion occurs to me. I can pay my bills all at once and be done with it for the month, or as they come in depending on the whim of the day. And I can jump in my car to do an errand right then and there if I want to. Supper could be anytime, from 5:00pm with friends, to 9:00 when I come up for air after an intense few hours of writing. My life, and I love it, is pretty much spontaneous. All except for my life-long habit of reading in bed.
It’s gotten exponentially easier to read in bed, first with the advent of the Kindle that’s a lot easier to control than an oversized hardcover, or a paperback determined to shut every time my finger slips. But now I read in bed mostly on my iPhone because I don’t even need a bedside light. And because I can hold it endlessly in one hand, flicking the pages with the touch of my thumb.
And here’s where Cheryl Reavis comes in. My habit is to read a chapter before putting the book down and burrowing into the covers to fall asleep. But Ms. Reavis’ books don’t lend themselves to such arbitrary limits. Like Lay’s potato chips that claim you can’t have just one, I can’t read just one chapter. Her characters are so compelling and their stories so enticing, I find myself glancing at the clock and thinking, Well, it’s only 1:00 am. I can read another chapter. Only to glance at the clock a few minutes later to discover it’s 2:30 in the morning. Or 3:15! My sleeping-in lasts well past sunrise (which is later here than many places). And I also find myself aching to take a nap later on in the day. So you think I’d learn. Don’t take one of this lady’s books to bed with me. Grab a Reader’s Digest maybe, or one of those books you know you should read, but find it hard to get into. But for some reason, I’m a slow learner about this particular issue. Eventually I’ll get to the end of her many books in print, and life might get back to normal.
Or not. My life was never all that normal to start with. But in the mean time, I am loving this author’s stories. I’m falling in love with her heroes and rooting for her heroines. So far every book has had a different setting so I get to visit places I’ve never been, some of them in a time I never lived. And I am loving every late night moment.
What author, or authors have you read that you find compelling, enjoyable and worth staying up late to read?