To the best of my knowledge, I’ve only ever joined AND participated in one group for a television show. A Million Little Things. I love that show. It’s one of very few I’ve ever loved so much I can hardly wait until each new episode – and Thursday nights will find me parked in front of my television like a kid watching their favorite cartoons.
That’s why I joined the group. And I think most people in the group are like me. We can suspend disbelief enough, get involved in the story enough, that we talk about the characters and what’s going on in their lives like they’re real people.
Not everyone, however, is able to do this, as evidenced by the regular questioning of our sanity. “You do know this is a television show, don’t you?”
Umm… Actually, I do know that. I also know if I can’t lose myself in the story and characters enough to CARE about them and what’s going on in their fictional lives, there’s not much point in turning the television on.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been a reader since I was old enough to check my first book out of a school library. And I can hardly wait for those special books. The ones that suck me in from the first page. The ones that are nearly impossible to put down. The ones I find myself reading so late at night I have to keep arching my brows in order to keep my eyelids open so I can read a few more pages. And a few more after that because I just have to know what happens next.
Do I know I’m just reading a book? That the characters and the things they’re going through aren’t real? Yes. Yes, I do. At least in my head. The thing is though, when the story is so good I totally lose myself in it, and the characters are written so well it’s like I actually know them, my heart doesn’t care if it’s real or not. I will care about the story, and I’ll care even more about the characters.
And I’m going to keep on caring. About books. About the occasional series. And I’m going to care about them like they really exist because if I can’t, what’s the point of reading or watching anything? Right?