It hurts so good
[Note: this is cross-posted over at the Spectacle. I was a little too tired to be blogging last night…]
Sometimes when I read really great speculative fiction, it hurts me – physically pains me – that the world I’m reading about isn’t real. I know some 9 and 10-year-old boys who feel this way about Rick Riordan’s world of demigods. I feel it with Harry Potter (as probably does everyone else). I’m so glad that the Harry Potter books didn’t come out when I was a child because I think it might have destroyed me knowing they were works of fiction. I’m only half-way joking about that!
I relish secret worlds-within-our-world, especially. I have to believe that hidden alternate worlds exist within our own. I have to. Otherwise… how boring. Right?
I’m trying to think if there have been any books or series of books that have made me truly yearn for the world they’ve created, other than the good ol’ HP books. I’ve been reading a lot of dystopia lately, though, so I have to say, while those worlds can be pretty cool, I don’t want to live in them.
What are some fictional worlds you long for? What world would you sell your arm, sell your sister and sell your favorite jeans to visit?
And while we’re talking about yearning… what spec fic mainstay would you fall to your knees and joyfully weep for upon discovery in our world? Vampires, zombies, faeries, aliens, wizards, half-bloods, space cowboys? I have to say, if intelligent alien life is ever discovered, I might actually and for real wet my pants.