Hoarding Favorite Authors

Some people gobble down books by their favorite authors as fast as they can find them. Me, I hoard them. Save them like pieces of fancy chocolate to treat myself whenever the mood really strikes.

My first night in Seattle for this conference, I went browsing around Pike Market, an adorable old-fashioned marketplace right above the bay, with this fantastic view of the water. Naturally, I hit the local bookstore first, before it closed. And there on the center shelf sat a Jeanette Winterson novel. Written on the Body.

I’d never read this particular one, although people call it her masterpiece. I think The Passion would be hard to top (though she nearly managed it in Sexing the Cherry). But the mood had struck, so I picked this one from the shelf, found myself a cozy little French café in which to dine, and started to read.

From the very first line, she caught me as usual. "Why is the measure of love loss?"

That’s the thing about Jeanette Winterson books. I want to quote just about every line. They’re all so poetic, so hauntingly written, and yet they evoke the exact emotion we all experience with regards to love, passion, regret. Months later, I still have lines of her writing stuck in my head, like the chorus of a particularly catchy song.

It’s been a few years since I’ve read one of her novels, because if I had to narrow my enormous list of favorite authors down to one person – whose body of work would I want with me if I were stranded on a deserted island – she’d be the one. I hoard her titles especially close. I only read one every few years.

I’m so glad that the time has come to pick up another one. I’m only fifteen pages into Written on the Body, because I read her writing slowly. Savor the taste for as long as possible. But I’m enjoying the process.

In the meantime, Seattle is gorgeous. Expect pictures as soon as I return. I promise not to bore you with the vacation-y ones! (well, okay... maybe I might bore you a little. ;) )