i heart books
I love the smell of a book as I gingerly flip through pages, whether it’s a musty, yellowed-with-age classic or a newly-shelved hardcover.
When I walk into a bookstore or library, my heart swells up, a sense of calm passes through me, and the possibilities feel endless. (Yes, I realize that is how most “normal” girls feel when they walk into a shoe store.)
Sometimes I use my bills as bookmarks, because it is the only place that they are truly safe and won’t take long to remind me to pay them on time.
The secret close-second answer to the infamous dinner party question, “Who would you take on a deserted island?” always makes me silently wonder, do book authors count? I could see what John Grisham is doing. Maybe Maeve Binchy is free…
I plan my bags and purse purchases not so much on how well they accessorize with my outfit, but by how snug my book will fit inside.
In tough life decisions, some people resort to spontaneous acts like flipping a coin or playing “rock, paper, scissors.” I find my mind drifts to random heroines from novels past. What would she do?
When watching a hit blockbuster in the big screen, I often feel a guilty twinge of pleasure, almost like the movie screen is sharing a secret with me. I realize why certain events are happening or what the characters truly mean by their actions, because I read the book and know the story more intimately then half the audience there.
Nearly Perfect Day: On a beach chair, feeling a slight breeze from the ocean (and my book pages) – where the only sound is ice clinking glass from my freshly poured margarita. And there are no annoying seagulls around.
While I was constantly teased by family and friends because I always had my nose in a book, I like to think it manually injected environments into my life that I would not have known otherwise. Reading other people’s dreams, actions, stories, and most importantly, mistakes, helped me speed-read through potential problems in my own life.
I’ve read about more countries then I will ever visit, learned about more cultures and types of people then I will ever encounter, and grew to love fictitious places and people.
All these Kindle-like technologies slightly scare me. I don’t want to get all cozy with iPod’s ugly cousin with his cold, hard surfaces and his constant desire for me to push his buttons. I truly hope there are others out there who will fight against the seemingly inevitable diminishing of books. It breaks my heart to think my grandchildren may walk into my super-cool grandma pad and say, “Granny, is that a real bookstand?” with the same naïve amusement we used to ask about record players.
While I may not be a lot of things, friends, colleagues and employers have consistently told me I am creative and open minded (notice I didn’t say practical, which would be the trifecta!). Maybe they were just being nice. But if not, I can only think to credit these traits to my lifelong complete and utter fascination –borderline obsession— with books.
