There is a certain ritual I follow when I read a book.
First of all, I make some form of ambiance. Nothing can compare to the smell of a vanilla or cinnamon scented candle slowly burning away but when all else fails a simple candle does the trick adequately enough. Then I need a beverage, hot or cold depends on the time of the year, usually coffee if hot and tea if cold (the opposite happens rarely), with the occasional glass of wine here and there. The day when I'll spend hours reading and not get even a little bit hungry hasn't yet come, so snacks within reach are a must. Biscuits, preferably of the dunking kind, are frequent visitors, along with many different sorts of cakes and pastries (Such a sweet tooth!).
When everything is done, then I'm ready to dive into a sea of stories, characters, settings. In this particular case, I dove into The Ocean at the End of the Lane, by my most beloved author Neil Gaiman.
