Gone with the Wind.

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I've spent a great deal of time collecting books over the last few years, increasing their amount every winter by the dozens. The cold always brings with it a hunger for reading any and all things, and the amount that I consume various works never fails to surprise me.

I will say that this year I've been a little pickier than normal. Nothing that I've chosen to read really fit my palate, and my compatibility with long loved authors just fell short. I would pick up one book, get about two chapters in, and then give up, deciding that I just wasn't in the right state of mind to absorb what was written. I'd pick up another book, and the entire system would just repeat itself, leaving me with absolutely nothing to read.

Finally, I fully opened my eyes to all of the things that I'd had on my shelves, and mantles, and tables, and floors, and realized that I had hoarded tons of classic literature without even realizing it! From Wilde, to Austen, to Dickens, to Flaubert, to Hemingway, I had discovered that I had in fact everything that I needed!

It was there, sandwiched between Beauty Queens and Sookie Stackhouse, that I found my copy of Gone with the Wind. Without any expectations or any real knowledge of the book, I sat down to read a chapter or so before dinner, and ended up tearing through 120 pages in an hour. Needless to say, it was a fantastic way to relaunch my internally lazy reader into the incredible world of literature, and I've been glued at the hip ever since.

It's inspired me to spend the majority of this year reading other classics, such as Catcher in the Rye, The Importance of Being Earnest, Pride and Prejudice, and Peter Pan (to name a few). It's been a treat to create themed reading lists in the past, and I'm hopeful that after I get through what I already own, I can move onto Game of Thrones. For now, I'll just concentrate on my time with Miss Scarlett O'Hara. Ned Stark can wait.