The symptoms: excessive sighing, moping, and general malaise; often accompanied by starting a book, skimming the first few pages, and putting it back down in disgust.
It's a terrible syndrome known as book letdown, and I am suffering. You see, book letdown happens when you have finished reading something particularly moving or satisfying, and when the last page is done, you realize that at least for a little while, no other book will even come close.
Book letdown doesn't happen often. It takes a very special book to make every other pale in comparison. This time, the book was Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese. A wonderful story, beautiful writing, and details that elevated rather than diminished the plot. It was such a lovely book that when it was done, I felt haunted by the ghosts of the characters I had grown to know and admire.
I've tried to move on. I picked up one book after another, but after 30 pages or so, and with resignation, I would give up. It's not their fault. They were all fine, well-received novels that under other circumstances, I would truly enjoy. And I do feel bad about it - like I should tell that sad stack of books, "Really, it's not you; it's me."
In a way it is like mourning, for the characters you won't see again, their stories left untold, and all the things you will never know about them. I believe this is the reason that trilogies and series are so wildly popular, because there is always the chance that you can meet your favorite characters again.
In the past, magazines and terribly trashy romance novels have been the cure. This weekend, I may have found another solution: my library generously provided me with FIVE books that have been on my "waiting to read" list. Maybe one of those gems will boost me out of my slump. Hope springs eternal!
