Comfort Reads

I’ve recently been in a state where I would wander to my TBR pile, realize that the very idea of it scared me, and I’d scamper back to my most well-worn, dog-eared copies of books that I’ve read over and over through the years.

I needed my Comfort Reads. Most of us have them. They clutter along the backs and edges of our bookshelves. Not quite stylish or cutting-edge enough to be displayed with the new shiny covers, but you can’t quite get rid of them, either. You might even own more than one copy because when you needed it, you couldn’t find it, so you rushed out to buy another one.

I just did that. I know I own Jodi Thomas’s The Texan’s Wager, but I also know it’s downstairs somewhere in a box. And I needed to read it NOW. When I went to the UBS, there it was. It sang to me, y’all. I could hear it.

It’s not just old books that comfort me, either. It’s authors who are familiar and easy. I got a new Jayne Castle novel. I like her other incarnations just fine, but the futuristics she writes as Jayne Castle are just to my taste. Especially those little fluffy things with teeth. I love those guys. This one doesn’t seem to be set in quite the same society, but I’m looking forward to it nonetheless. There’s just something about her style that makes me happy.

You know what else I’ve picked up? Christine Feehan. One Carpathian novel from the library and one Ghostwalker book from the UBS. Feehan is my crack. When I’m sane, I can pick them apart like nobody’s business (God love her), but I always feel like such a hypocrite because I Love These Books. Not in a “Wow! This book is awesome!” kind of way, but in a sticky, gooey, SyFy, made-for-TV movie kind of way.

Honestly, I’m not even sure these books make me feel better so that I can suck it up and face the day, or if they just make my wallowing place more comfortable. Either way, I’m not giving up my comfort reads.

What do you read when you’re feeling down?