Books are doorways into secret worlds, secret lives created by the minds of people around the world. Most books follow the same set of rules, they have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

But some books simply are.

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They give us a glimpse into a small piece of someones madness, someones day, someones moment. They help us connect with that part of us is that is confused, lost, trying to piece together the jigsaw puzzle that is our life and make some sense of it all and understand that we are not alone in our loneliness.

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Everyone has a scared child running through mazes in our minds and being confronted with the fact makes you realize that we are all trapped in the same maze together, all we need to do is reach out, spill our truths, and we can connect on a deeper level.

I just finished up the slow regard of silent things by Patrick Rothfuss. Its my second read through, and it is just as beautiful and broken and poetic as the first time I explored its pages. For anyone who has not read Patrick’s work, I highly recommend it. His king killer chronicles are wonderful books, imperfect as all stories are, and perfect in their imperfection. The slow regard of silent things is a small 60 page companion book which shares a few days of one of the characters in his series, and it is truly a wonderful book.

It might not be for you, but if it is, it will sink into your skin and rest against your heart for weeks and months.

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