Spent

Now I'm spent.

After expending all the energy (it takes a lot to keep your mind on what you need to do rather than doing what you want to do) on reading, going through everything that Bella, Edward and their loved ones are going through, I've finally finished Twilight.

I'm in a funk.

Coupled with the satisfaction of finishing a damn good book is the sadness of actually having to put it down, knowing you've reached the end and that there's no more to it (for now anyway, since Meyer is editing the sequel to Twilight: New Moon). After the high of a compellingly good read, I spiral into a short abyss of despair: where and when will I ever find another book as good as this?!

I started seriously reading and collecting YA fiction when I was in college in Sunway (all the Trixie Beldons and Famous Fives and Enid Blyton series don't coun't). And that was also partly by mistake. I'd picked up an older edition of Maniac Magee and then found to ym surprise, it was a pretty darn good book. Bookstores in those days however, had limited if any, good YA books other than your run-or-th-mill Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys.

It wasn't until I was firmly ensconced in my junior year at Western in Kalamazoo that I discovered the amazing world of American bookstores. I was sucked in and till this day have not managed to crawl back out. It didn't take much thought for me to enrol in Children's Lit 101 (or something like that) as one of my electives in my final year. I've never regretted that decision: it was one of my favourite classes. Or I should say, my favourite. I got to read YA fiction and collect illustrated books as part of class, wow! how cool is that? It was a dream come true. Did I mention somewhere in my blog that I even wrote a story? A short one, which I supposedly wanted Eve to illustrate. Oh well...

When I returned to KL three years later, I was depressed for a while because there was a dearth of YA fiction and illustated books here. All they had was still the Enid Blytons and the Nancy Drews and the Sweet Valley Highs. So I went book shopping in Singapore and online. And then, my dream came true: Kinokuniya opened at the fourth floor in KLCC. To this day, they have the best selection of YA fiction in the country (after Mischief Books in Yow Chuan Plaza closed down, of course).

But now I'm still in a funk. I've read only two books that have really moved me this year, and I go through a record number of books a year, believe you me (I usually give away the many receipts that I can't use to claim for tax refunds since I buy so many books a year). The first book that hooked its claws onto me and wouldn't let go till I finished it was also a fluke find. I bought it because the cover was beautiful. It was black and there was a picture of a moth one corner of it. Deceptively simple but effective in catching my attention. I picked up the book, read the excerpt on the back and was immediately convinced I HAD to get this book. Luna touched me deeply. It's about a young transgender teenaged boy and he dresses up in his sister's clothes in the night, transforming himself only in the light of the moon. No one knows, only his sister. And when he decides to "transition" permamently, all those involved are affected in ways immeasurable. It is a wrenching, poignant tale, told in a very sensitive and artistic style.

Failing to find a book to live up to Luna (I read it early in the year) as I browsed the shelves and added to my collection, I reread Flipped and Hoot. In the last two months I bought more than 20 books. And I've read them all (almost, save for one or two). And then last night I found Twilight. Hang on, I left out Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan, which I read about two months ago. Finding a good book is like happening upon an unexpected natural wonder in the pollution that is today's world. You really never know how you will react to it until you read it. Or whether it will leave an indelible mark.

But boy, when you start reading and you feel the story taking a hold of you, you're already way in deep and it's too late to come out for air. For me it's that way anyway. And it's the best way to let a book get hold of you. You let go and become totally immersed in it. Eat, breathe, live it.

Damn, my friends are going to think I'm a nut (if they don't already). The hubby should know how I feel, although he wouldn't apply this feeling to books but to another area of his life.

I fear it is time to go out hunting again for another elusive book that will leave a scorching mark in my literary world.