Today I finished reading a book. I started it last night, put it down at an hour I'm never quite sure if it should be described as early or late, picked it back up the moment I woke this morning and didn't put it down until I finished it.
The book? The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater. I reviewed it on Goodreads. I don't usually but I felt like I had to with this one. And even then I didn't know what to say!
I just ... how do you put that feeling into words, when you've just finished a book that was so good, that you were so immersed in, and then it ends? I've just spent several long (or short, depending on how you look at it) hours with these characters, and I'm not ready to let them go yet. I want more time.
Now I'm wandering from room to room, like me cat when she's looking for someone to feed her, and I just can't settle. Everything I do loses its appeal so quickly, because I want back into that world. I think that maybe I should just start another book, to keep that feeling at bay, but then I can't stand the idea of starting another book when I've just read one that was so amazing.
Do you know this feeling? The one you only get after reading a book you really connected with? How do you get past it? Or am I maybe just a bit coocoo?