Stories: tales and adventures. Things we think about every day, well I do. These are things which can rule my life, the book I’m reading, the next adventure I am going to run for my friends. But why do we enjoy them so much, is it escapism from the reality of the world?? Yet when we look at some tales they are horrific in their content. More real than the realist nightmare anyone can suffer. Yet we still read them.
But why do we??? I have written countless adventures of horror, danger love and desire. Designed too enthrall those who come to play the game that night. I have told tales that have even worried me and I’m the one making the story up as I go. yet still we listen, read and want more. We go back to the bookshelf looking for our next fix of fantasy and adventure. We look for ways that we can be different and not alone. Some of us enjoy books of romance and happy journeys through life where everything is rosy and nice, others enjoy the gritty horror of real life tales that when we read them we almost cry in sympathy for what the author has gone through in their life. But still the question is why??
For myself I can answer. Escapism! That is the reason why I read so much and so variedly. I admit my love of science fiction and fantasy rule over all others. But I also have read the more modern books of adventure. Stories of daring do, saving the world and getting the girl and been home for tea the next day with only a leg in plaster. My mind as I read is totally absorbed into the book the pages vanish and instead I am there. It is me and not the hero or heroine of the story fighting the pirates beyond the rings of Saturn. It is I not the heroic warrior wielding sword and shield alone to hold back the horde in a futile fight that he cannot survive to give his friends those few moments to escape…in my mind’s eye I am these and more. My heart racing, as the car ‘I drive’ race around the mountain, been chased by gun totting hoodlums. And as I turn the last page I find myself at home or work a simple book of paper in my hands, a real world of work money problems and relationships all about me. Yet for several hours I was not here. I was elsewhere living a life not my own.

That is how I feel about books and the stories within. Have a think yourselves why do you read? For the joy of the story or to escape a world that brings worries and stress. We all read for many reasons. Some more obvious to others then most.