Reflections on Eragon

 I have not read many novels in my life, but the one series I had binged through when I was in middle school was the Eragon series of novels. The books seemed so endearing to me, each one with a good thickness to it, bound like a tome more than a book in a modern library. And with a large blue, beautiful dragon illustrated on the front. Despite the size I drove into the book quite readily and quickly found myself rapt up in the story of a boy trying to raise a dragon while living at home. Only until months later finding that he had to journey out to protect his beloved wyrm with a mysterious man. I loved the series and I had often wonder about what was going to happen next, the books consumed me and I even asked my teachers to let me sit at the silent lunch tables in order to read the books in peace. Truly I was, how Tolkien might put it, completely enchanted by its world. The length of the books always just the right size to get through as it fueled my fascination with dragons and fantasy. Even as I write this I recall all of the places I have been and journeyed through and some of my fondest memories of it. Strange how I feel like I know so much about a place I had never physically been to. My memories feeling just as genuine as if I had actually been there.