Some Books Just Find Me

We all have our own ways of finding books to read.  Usually, I start with authors that I love.  Sometimes, I search by genre.  Occasionally, I look for a specific topic or keyword of interest.  Rarely, I purchase a book because it is all the rage; I jump on board because everyone else is doing it.  Most of the time, these methods lead me to something that I really enjoy.

The books that I find most entrancing, however, are not books that I find; they’re the books that find me.  That’s right, some books just find me.

I touched on this briefly in my review of Frankenstein.  That book, while not particularly enjoyable, found me.  I was supposed to have read it back in college.  Twice.  Unfortunately, with an over-booked schedule and two part-time jobs, I fudged a little.  That meant that I passed on this book because I needed to devote my time elsewhere.  I’m not proud of that fact, and I’ve always regretted it.  That meant that Frankenstein ended up on a list of things to read when I get time.  It has sat on that list for almost twenty years.

This summer, Frankenstein found me.  A family friend was required to read it as a summer project for his high school English class.  He knew that I had a degree in English and came to me for help.  He was concerned because it would be his first big grade for AP English, and he wanted to make sure that he didn’t tank on it.  I agreed to help him where I could (I wouldn’t do any of the actual work, but I would read the book along with him and we could discuss it), and Frankenstein again reared its ugly head.  I read it and helped him.  I was glad that I read it.  Not that I enjoyed it, I didn’t.  I didn’t like the first half at all, and the best that I can say about the second half is that it was not that bad.  But it did force me to fulfill an almost twenty-year-old goal.  So, guilt assuaged.

Another book, which I have been relentlessly plugging in the Kindle Forums, also found me.  It’s The Lodger.  That book found me on Facebook.  Well, now, it didn’t exactly send me a friend request.  A friend of mine, (from here on out we will refer to him as the professor, as he and I were goofy kids together, but he is now a professor at BU) whose opinion I respect greatly, mentioned in a status message, “I just watched the Lodger and it was amazing.”  I immediately went to imdb.com and searched for The Lodger.  Several different films came up, and a few of them were based on the book by Marie Belloc Lowndes.  I thought, Hey, someday I’ll read that.

About a month later, I received my first Kindle in the post (it was a lovely young K2, which now belongs to my husband) and was testing it out.  I wanted to see what kind of reception I got at home, as my home is known for its dead spots.  I curled up in my comfy chair and began playing around with my Kindle.  At some point, I decided to try out the search function.  The question was what to search for?  For some reason Jack the Ripper was the first thing that came to mind (yes, I know, scary thought).  And the first book that came up in the search was The Lodger.  I thought, Hunh, that’s the book the professor mentioned.  Then I thought, And it’s free.  The Lodger became my first Kindle download.

I loved the download function, and instantly became a one-click addict.  As soon as I could pull myself away from buying a ridiculous number of books (both free and paid), I began reading.  I loved it.  The book fully engrossed me, and I read it in two sittings – albeit long sittings.  I simply could not put the book down.

I had to thank him for bringing the book to me.  Our conversation went something like this:

“Hey, Professor, remember about a month ago when you mentioned watching The Lodger?  I was wondering, was that the 2009 version?  On your recommendation, I just read the book and I loved it and I’m considering watching the movie as well.”

The professor replied, “I know nothing of the book or film that you are talking about.  I was (insert embarrassed laugh here) referring to a Dr. Who episode.”

So, not only did I have the joyful experience of learning that the professor was still a goofy kid at heart, but a wonderful, now-beloved book found me.