Unequivocally, this feeling tops this one.
No matter how you feel about finishing, starting a good one is great. You’re entering a new world of characters and places and dialogue. You have no idea where things are going to go or even how they’re going to get there. Additionally, and like the beginning of a good meal, the end is nowhere in sight so it’s all clear on the western front.
It’s honestly like being 40 years old and looking back at the version of yourself right after college or high school. All that promise, all that life in front of you. That version of you doesn’t know how annoying the ending of the book is going to be when the author just leaves it up to you to decide what’s going to happen. That version just knows that there’s so many pages out in front of you, so many things to figure out and discover.
If the book is a good one, you can’t put it down and that’s the proof in the pudding for this feeling. No matter how good a book is, like a relationship, the beginning, voracious portion of the experience is the best part. No one says, “Wait til you get to the middle!”
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Thinking this new book is going to be the one and it turns out it’s awful. And, because you’re a trooper, you press on for 100 pages, dredging ahead for some unknown reason with feelings of guilt, only to discover what you already knew—this book sucks.