I live in Atlanta.

I’m making this point only because it’s important you know Atlanta is where I call home, but it is most decidedly not where I am from. Why is that fact so important? Because people in Atlanta have southern accents. Oh, not all of them. Many are not from here, like me. And I most definitely do not have a southern accent. Both by nature of my background, but also by choice. I can be a bit of a snob when it comes to proper diction, and to my very discerning Yankee ears, a southern accent is flawed diction. Is this a fair assessment? Admittedly, I haven’t stopped to weigh that point. It doesn’t really matter…not to me. I don’t have a southern accent, and that fact is very unlikely to change.

Does this mean I make fun of all people who do have southern accents? Au contraire…I embrace people with all sorts of accents. As long as their grammar is spot on.

Bad grammar is a pet peeve of mine.

I can almost hear you asking, why are you telling us this? And I imagine you’re wondering, what the hell is she talking about?

Don’t worry, I’m getting to that…

You see, my problem is this, I have been spending a lot of time (maybe too much time) in Dallas over the past 24 hours. Dallas of the early 1960s. And in the Dallas of that era, there are a whole slew of southern accents. My poor, snobby Yankee brain has been fighting them off like a summer cold.

Don’t feel bad…I know I’m being confusing. It’s because I’m still reading the Stephen King book, 11/22/63.

Still reading?

More like complete immersion. From the moment I picked up the book (or rather, downloaded the file to my new Nook tablet) I have done little else. I even find myself thinking with that southern accent from time to time. Often enough I may need to dive into my battered copy of Pride and Prejudice when I’m finished.

But for now, I’m connected to this story as if my very life depended on it.

My eyes have become so blurry at times I have to close them. And when I drift off to sleep, my addled brain tries to keep the story going, writing new directions to the plot. My knowledge of history combined with the world woven within the pages of the book has driven my subconscious down paths almost as frightening as the rabbit holes fashioned by the master himself.

And this is why I love Stephen King. Or why I hate him. Either way I’m passionately involved in his tale to the point where I am neglecting everything else in my life. Just like the main protagonist in the story.

And speaking of Jake Epping…I need to get back to him. I’m only 200 pages from the end of the book, (there are quite a few hours before dawn) and my Nook battery should be full again, so I’d better get to it.

Until the next time…I’ll be reading (still…)

Have you ever lost yourself in a book?

As a writer, that is my life-long goal…to write a book that drags the reader in until they find themselves lost in the story. It’s what every writer wants.

I write every day. Blogs, serials, and a few books I’m working on finishing. But finding time to read can be a challenge. And I love to read. I’m one of those people who will pour over the back of a cereal box during breakfast just to have something to read.

My preference is for the old fashioned page turners. Real books. The smell of ink on paper is a magical thing. The feel of a new binding, opened for the first time, still gives me chills. Blowing the dust from the pages of a well-loved favorite, rediscovered on the back of a shelf, is like finding an old friend again.

I was one of the electronic book reader hold outs. E-books held no interest to me. In fact, I adamantly said I would never cave…and then the new Nook tablet came out, and I did…I caved. My husband bought me one for Christmas and I’ve been attached to it ever since.

Today I discovered I could read books on my Nook for free while inside the walls of the Barnes and Noble bookstore, so while I was there, I started reading the new Stephen King book 11/22/63.

Of course, as a regular at the Barnes and Noble (my favorite hangout) I knew about the book even before it hit the shelves. But my mother was the first person to mention it to me in passing. She was marveling about the thickness of the book itself…disbelief coloring her comments.

“I heard it was THREE INCHES THICK!” she said. “It would take someone a WHOLE YEAR to read that!”

“It’s not three inches thick,” I disagreed. “Besides, the last few Harry Potter books are at least that long. And Tom Clancy writes really long books.”

I wanted to say, not everyone prefers the dime store romance type books (although, I’m not above reading those too) but I didn’t. We didn’t need to say those were her favorites. Mom likes a quick read. If I’m being honest, I do too. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love a book with a lot of meat…as long as it doesn’t drag.

And once upon a time, Stephen King was my favorite.

So, it wasn’t unusual for me to click the Read In Store option on my Nook to check out the first few pages of his newest tome.

From the first few pages I was hooked.

Now, I think it’s important to say, I don’t write book reviews. I’ll be the first to tell you if I like something, but I rarely take the time to write about it. It’s not my style. But every now and then, something so completely strikes my fancy I just MUST tell you about it…and this book is one of those things.

The magic woven by the master himself has pulled me in like a drug. I’ve been reading since dinnertime and I’m pausing just long enough to write this before going back in. If you like a grand adventure…if you’re a fan of history…if you believe in magic and good triumphing over evil…this is a book for you.

But you can‘t have mine, I’m not done with it yet.

Until the next time…I’ll be reading!