Aslansjoy

God's little fish in trousers. I need an index. And a map. And maybe a nice little native guide who will nod and call me "Missy." I came to find out about "the Cosmere" and now it looks as though I will need to specialize in one area.

One lover of words sits alone in her living room. She has just finished it. It. Words of Radiance. When it came, she was afraid to begin. She stared at it for hours, there on the shelf. It wasn't that it was too big. Only a mere 72 pages longer than the first. Or was it 63? No matter. It wasn't that she doubted it. She knew the book would drag her down to the depths of a soul's misery, and then, like a Steelpull, rip her up and away into glory. It was that her heart had been content, for so long, with one, and now to open that closed part of her and take in a second one, and yearn for more. . . that was what kept her hands from opening the cover. It took a week to finish. Snatching chapters while nursing the baby, in between chores, like a teen trying to catch kisses from a crush. Staying up far too late, and starting dinner late too, for just one more interlude. The last hundred pages were the best. And the worst. At the end of every scene she dropped the book and screamed. Truly screamed, in joy, in pain, in sheer emotional overload. And then it was done, except for the storm raging inside. So she came here, to find someone --ANYONE -- else who knew.