I spent several nights in college reading basically all night -- a couple of times with Stephen King, a couple with Anne Rice. It made me feel badass both in the "I'm not a kid anymore! I can stay up as late as I want!" sense and in the "FUCK YOU, schoolwork!" sense.

I don't think I've done the read all night thing. It's hard for me to get that comfortable in a reading position.

A reading experience I wish I remembered was Where the Wild Things Are. It's the book that prompted my parents to teach me to read early since they were fed up with reading it to me over and over (and you know how pissy kids get if you try and cheat and skip stuff--I was the ur-pisser).

Especially with a bigger book, I like to kind of slounge in bed with a pillow on my lap and the book propped on that. Also I just roll around and change positions a lot.

This wasn't exactly pleasurable, but very memorable. I took a redeye to Iowa for a conference, and someone gave me the Langoliers to read. It really added to the creepiness that I got to my destination airport while everything was still closed and had to wait in the deserted terminal until the shuttle buses started running.

Holy shit, -t. That would have been fucking creepy cool.

I've wanted to read that; I really liked the miniseries.

I like to kind of slounge in bed with a pillow on my lap and the book propped on that.

Hmm. I lie on my side, head propped on hand (you see how unsustainable that is right away) and the book on the body pillow next to me.

For some reason, moving around seems wrong.

I used to be able to read off the end of the bed, with the book on the floor and arms dangling down. Hurts now, weirdly. That I could do for hours--but never fall asleep, because there's nowhere to rest your head.

I used to be able to read off the end of the bed, with the book on the floor and arms dangling down.

That's totally what I did as a kid, except crossways, so my feet were off the other side. Or up in the air, depending.

So creepy, -t!

When I was little I remember how enjoyable it was to re-read my favorite books.

Specific times, although this doesn't sound pleasurable -- one year when we were in North Carolina for the summer my grandmother gave me A Lantern in Her Hand to read when I got sick. I laid in bed and alternated playing with the Faux!Barbie my grandfather got for me and reading the book. Then we had to go home and laid in the back seat of Dad's LTD and finished the book and cried at the ending.

Also, sitting on the beach and reading Middlemarch. (actually most of reading at the beach, usually lying on the Comfy Coach with the fan blowing on me). In high school I spent about two weeks reading the Foundation series. I sat on the bed cross legged until my legs fell asleep and stayed up all night to finish it. Totally fried my brain, but it was worth it.

I'm not sure how to answer that. I mean, define?

As with most of my conversational fodder questions, I'm willing to let people define it on their own terms as long as their answers are interesting. However, what I meant was sort of where people have gone with it. Where the pleasure of the reading that particular work is so great and so closely allied in your mind with the physical details of the experience.

There's a particular pleasure that comes with stealing the time from work or homework, or the book was forbidden or gotten from somebody else's shelf, or discovered by accident or given by a close friend or, or having the house to yourself while your family / roommate / spouse are away or a period of vacation or holiday and the freedom to read.

But I also like the evocative details of drinking in a cafe in Prague while losing yourself in Street of Crocodiles or getting a paper bag full of an entire run of X-Men from a cousin and reading it in a treehouse, or sipping single-malt and reading Neuromancer, or smoking and reading Colette.

I used to be able to read off the end of the bed, with the book on the floor and arms dangling down. Hurts now, weirdly. That I could do for hours--but never fall asleep, because there's nowhere to rest your head.

This is how I read all through my teen years, precariously half balanced off the bed and slowly sliding. It was both reading and doing abdominal workouts. I think I was probably too restless and energetic to read without that physical activity when I was that age.

I used to read Interview with the Vampire sitting upside-down in a papisan chair (under my loft bed, behind a curtain), while blasting Phantom of the Opera on the stereo. At least I was a dedicated teen cliché.