Some songs are called «earworms» because of how memorable and catchy they are. I think that's really nice imagery.
Recently, I've been thinking about two books in particular: A Psalm for the Wild-Built, by Becky Chambers; and The Night Circus, by Erin Morgenstern. These books are definitely «lifeworms», for me.
A day doesn't go by that I don't think of at least one of them, and it's rare that I don't find myself thinking of both.
I'm not sure what it is about them that gets me so thoughtful, especially with The Night Circus. I think it's the non-linear narrative structure, but maybe it's the magic, or the relationship between the two main characters. The Psalm's appeal is much clearer for me: I'm a huge fan of environmentalism and I love imagining a world of peace and fresh air where everyone gets to live a peaceful, fulfilling life. That book is basically hopeporn.
Still, I feel that there's something more. I think there's something special about both of them together that I find particularly enticing.
Recently, I did a little thought exercise. I thought about what kind of story I would like to write. I do this every once in a while, whenever it strikes my fancy - or whatever the saying is - but, for some reason, this time, it felt different. I think, maybe, I figured out a better answer than usual.
I'm someone that rarely re-reads or re-watches books or shows. For some reason, re-listening is much more palatable for me; I've re-listened to The Magnus Archives' best episodes dozens of times, and I've listened to my favourite albums for times than I can count, but I have never re-read my favourite books. I've only watched my favourite show twice (though I have also read the source material, so maybe that counts as an additional time). My memory is good, but not so good as to vividly remember these pieces of media years after I've first experienced them without revisiting their pages and frames. Yet, I just don't feel like doing it, basically ever.
However, I'm starting to feel that I really should re-read those two books in particular. I'm not very superstitious, in a practical sense. Still... I feel like they're calling me. A Psalm has a sequel, so I'll read that first, but then I'll get to the original two books. Maybe I'll go and read more from Becky Chambers, later, too.
I guess, when I think of the perfect book, it's a mix of A Psalm and The Night Circus. These books captured my imagination, entrapped my heart in a way that nothing has before.
Something about them makes me think about the beauty of everything, about the value of relationships, about what it'd be like to be someone else, someplace else, doing something else in a different way. Is that just escapism, I wonder... They're the kind of books that make you feel like you're dreaming wide awake. They say something that I feel compelled to hear.
When I write in my diary, I often find myself writing that I really want to understand other people. It's a little weird, really, now that I think about it. It's usually just stream-of-consciousness, but somehow it always goes back to being able to say what I mean and be understood, and be able to understand what people are trying to say to me. I think that's a very human thing. It makes me feel a bit more human to feel that, not that that matters, particularly, but still. Usually, I write about learning languages, about being a better reader, about writing better. Maybe that's also why I worked so hard to improve my handwriting, too.
I say this to say that I think that, somehow, I understand those two books. I can't quite put into words, but I think I understood them, deep inside. I internalized what they said, they changed me. I'm different after them; I'm different thanks to them. I'm better. I like that feeling, a lot.
I've also been thinking of going hiking, recently. Maybe one of these days.
This post's theme music has been: Album From The Past to The Future, by Chikoi the Maid.
I see... That sounds pretty bad...