splendid moonlight

Most of my favorite books are "accidental" finds. I found one of them in Book Sale SM on a particularly aimless day. It had really great reviews on the back and came in a nice green old school feel cover that I liked. So I bought it not really expecting anything, and found myself blown away.

Some of my favorite books were shoved in front of my face by my brother. Still sort of accidental because I would never have chosen them if it were up to me. He would not stop talking about a book until I would grudgingly read the first few pages and then get hooked.

Most of the time, I would walk in a bookstore not knowing what I want to get - only knowing that I want to buy something to read. I would spend minutes to hours - although it's hard to keep track of time once you get yourself lost in between shelves, sometimes it even feels like days and you walk past the exit feeling as if you've just arrived from a trip, and maybe it is true - browsing around until I, by a process not entirely understood by me, choose a book.

Of course I would discover wonderful authors this way, and would go back another time to look for another book by them. But they all start with that aimless, blissful search.

Today was different. To satiate my almost painful craving for a good read after years of hiatus from novel-reading and novel-shopping, I purposefully marched in Fully Booked with a clear purpose: buy any Neil Gaiman piece. I heard a lot of rage about him these past few years (lots of praises from friends, blogs, etc.), but I have yet to find out how good he really is.

Don't disappoint me, American Gods.