It’s a bit more complicated than simply being frustrated by an interruption.
So many times in my life, this has happened to me: I’m in bed, or on the couch, or in my comfy chair, or lying in a sunbeam; my reading glasses are on, and I have a book open in my lap. And, unlike at literally any other point in the day, someone suddenly really wants my attention.
And while I absolutely adore my partner’s desire to share with me (especially his enthusiasm for a funny comic, or captured footage of the mother black bear and her two cubs ambling harmlessly through our yard at ten p.m.), I cannot help but react with a slight twist of irritation every time I am pulled from the story I’m reading, no matter what the situation.
Because that’s exactly what it feels like: being pulled.
I sometimes wonder if I’m the only one who feels this way, considering the doubly frustrating number of fellow readers who have done this to me in the past, but I surely cannot be unique in this experience. As I said, interrupting an avid reader is far more than just breaking their concentration. When I read, I am literally in the story: sometimes it’s so vivid, I can even feel the ground beneath my feet or the frigid mountain air blowing across my skin. Any piece of writing, but especially a good book, takes me out of my home and far away from where I’m sitting/lying/sprawled awkwardly across the arms of the chair.
Now, imagine being totally immersed in an environment, and then suddenly being wrenched hundreds to even thousands of miles across time and space and thrown violently back into your body in the span of a second.
Does that sound fun?
Because it’s not.
I’ve never really spoken about this with anyone before, but I’ve experienced this kind of reaction a lot over the years. Any interruption from a story—even the ones I make up in my head, I should add—causes my heart to race, my thoughts to jolt, and it even produces an (albeit, small) amount of physical pain in my body—just like being tugged out of place by someone who has good intentions, but who just doesn’t seem to realize you liked where you were standing.
So, the next time you interrupt your avid reader friend/family member/co-worker/partner, and they look at you like they’re debating beating you to death with their left shoe, maybe you’ll now have a better understanding of the reason why.
Night Owls…is this just me? Or have you experienced similar feelings when being interrupted in the middle of a story?
