I have places that I love to read certain works. Some people can read anything anywhere and be taken to another world through their own imagination. I like to afford myself the luxury of setting the mood whenever possible.
For dystopian fiction or fantasy that is otherwordly, I like to go out on my back porch that overlooks The Jungle with the banana trees, travelers palms, pygmy palms and wisteria creeping invasively though the philodendron. The hanging spheres of stag-horn fern in globes of dripping greenery seem to set that mood. The angel’s trumpet with its intoxicating fragrance but deadly seed takes me to enchanted places. For some more wicked reading, I like to go out there during the lightening storms that we seem to have every summer day. For a soft sweet romance nothing could be better that to curl up on the living room sofa and light candles in the dark. That’s why I love the readers with backlighting. Or I crawl between the sheets with my husband. I love classics , like Jane Eyre, at the mountain cabin, in front of the stone fireplace during a long soggy week of rain,
and for murder mysteries and thrillers I like to seal myself away to the comfort and safety of my bedroom and close the door.I call them bookdrops. I hear from and speak to writers a lot, and writers are also readers. Do you enhance or set the mood, or do you depend on your imagination exclusively?