A few years ago I got into a video game. It was called Grabbed by the Ghoulies and was an X-box game which involved fighting your way through a haunted house using items of furniture and wit and wiles to defeat the ghosts and ghouls. It's the only video game I have ever played.
My kids and I loved this game. On one level there was a broom which made a particularly good weapon. So that you knew you could pick up and use this broom (and other items) a little white hand icon would appear on it. I knew that I was spending far too much time playing the game when I went into my kitchen one day, intending to sweep the floor, and stood by the broom waiting for a hand icon to appear so that I could pick it up. That's the point where I gave up Grabbed by the Ghoulies and I have never played another X-box game since.
If my experience seems odd, though, think about how often you read (or write) a book and have problems getting your brain back into the real world. When it's a really, really good book it can often become difficult to entirely leave it behind when you close it (or switch it off). Ever read a Jane Austen book and found yourself walking with a little more poise, or enunciating more clearly? Or been halfway through a Harry Potter and wondered whether some of the more unusually dressed people around you might actually be wizards? I'm currently re-reading Wool and at times I find myself marvelling at the sky above me.
Which books have you read which have brought you so completely into their world that you struggle to leave it?
When I finished the last book in The Work and the Glory series I felt really sad, because I felt like I was leaving part of my family behind. Now I’m reading The Art of Racing in the Rain and I keep wondering what my dog is thinking. :-)
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