Comfort Books

. Some people have comfort blankets. Some people have comfort food. I have comfort books.

These are the books I hide in when the world’s gone wrong, when I just want to withdraw from reality for a while, when I’m miserable and lonely, or even when it’s a just a rainy grey day.

Almost all the Agatha Christie’s are comfort books. I can get lost in their complex mysteries, identify with the characters, and finish the book knowing everything came out right in the end.

And then there’s Jane Eyre, for the cold rainy days, when I need a good cry.

Sins of the Wolf by Anne Perry is one I turn to a lot – it’s my favourite of her Monk series. I get totally caught up in Monk’s fight to save the woman he won’t admit he loves from the gallows.

Wind in the Willows is utterly magical and still makes me laugh and cry and gaze in wonder at the Piper at the Gates of Dawn.

These books have been read over and over again, until I know them off by heart. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that when I’ve had a bad day, when I’m sad and disheartened and unhappy, these books are my comfort.


One response to “Comfort Books

  1. You’re not the only one. Erma Bombeck’s books assure me that I am not alone. Bujold sprinkles adventure in my life and Pratchett humour. It sounds weird, but reredin g favourite scenes from my own books sometimes makes me feel better too. Talkar taking Molly flying and her wonder at the freedom of it. Lisa dancing or hugging Tony, seeing them happy makes me happier.

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