Do books shape our lives?

It is a strange question with a million varied answers but I will be brief.

If books help shape our lives does this mean that our choice dictates the type of person we are… light weight romance – dreamer and not grounded?

Horror stories – hard skinned and insensitive?

I don’t think fiction shapes our lives but that is my opinion. However, non-fiction is a different story and I think it plays a bigger part.

What do you think?

And what is the one book from your childhood you remember most?

I read avidly and I loved re reading Roald Dahl to my kids – The Twits remaining a favorite of mine.a-roald-dahl-childrens-book-called-the-twits-on-a-white-background-dfxea2

The Night Curtain.. Dean Koontz

The night sky hung like a perfectly ironed curtain. Stars twinkled from their allotted places. I envy them.  My words are laden with emotion, ‘I wish I were a star. But I’m not. I’m stuck here, confined.  Imagine what would be revealed if we could pull that curtain back.’

Despite everything I smile. I know I am a dreamer with a strange ability.. I simply dream, wish and sometimes I am taken there.

I could feel it happening, feeling drowsy and wishful. I repeated my wistful thought ‘imagine if I could pull back the thick curtain of night what is hidden beneath and beyond it?’

“Take me there,” I begged in a whisper. The world tumbled as I sank to the ground.

The night air felt colder, crisper. The intensity of the stars – blinding. In contrast the space beyond was dark and ominous. I stepped forward and pushed up my hand. To my surprise my hand was huge. Looking down I discovered I was huge, or had the universe shrunk?

Smiling to myself I flexed my fingers and whispered, ‘Right here we go, gentle and slow.’

With my right hand I gradually pulled back the curtain and took a deep breath. Not good, was my immediate thought this is not good. I was being watched by millions of eyes or were they stars?

The sky had not lightened. The eyes watched me swivelling in all directions. The creatures attached to the eyes swished about before me, like a pendulum in a clock, tick – tock. They were changing direction. And then I heard it. Clunk! It was a metallic sound. A definite metallic sound, is that good? I wondered. Ears straining eyes wondering where to look I stepped forward and felt something warm and woolly brush against me. It giggled.

“Who’s there? What are you doing? Where am I?” Too many questions poured from my mouth to be answered by silence. I was mystified. The eyes vanished. No, I corrected they melted into one bright torch. The light pounced on me. Such heat I thought.  It’s sunlight, I relaxed, wondering if the owners of the eyes would vanish into the daytime light or would they remain where they were willing to face me and explain.

A sudden sound. I pivoted left and right each time I did the sound moved. I stopped moving and again was met with silence.

Part of the Dail Post Challenge: Imitation/Flattery