nce upon a time when I was a pre-teen, I was reading a book (see above) in my grandmother’s room, and my sisters were in the room with me. I can’t remember now if they were reading their own respective books or doing something else. I had reached the critical turning point in the book where all was revealed (as a Devoted Reader, I promise not to spoil it). In my young and softboiled brain, I couldn’t fathom that something like [plot twist] truly existed. I screamed and threw the book against the wall. After a deep few breaths, I got up and picked up the book, then resumed reading. My sisters – the youngest in particular – stared at me in bewilderment.
“What’s wrong? What happened?!” they demanded.
“I. Can’t. Believe. It.” That’s all I could muster with moist eyes. After I finished the book, I explained the climax to them and they were shocked too. They vowed to never the read the book that we all knew would give me a nightmare (and it did).
I still have that book in my library and, truth be told, I have not picked it up in years. I think I’ve only re-read it once. I happened upon its spine the other day when, in my usual clumsy haste to sidestep a pile of crap/clutter that should not have even be there, I almost slipped headfirst into a bookshelf. That’s how bad it is at my house! It’s a small house and it should have less stuff! These days, in an effort to downsize and have a better energy flow around the house, I am reducing the amount of things we have at home. That means downsizing my kitchen gear, mugs, clothes, and books. I think this book should have another home with another story from its reader. It’s languishing unread in my library.
I never thought I’d get to the point where I would start donating books. I grew up thinking all books were precious. As a self-professed bookworm, I thought the more the merrier. No matter that boxes of them were heavy and cumbersome as I moved from home to dorm to apartment to apartment to apartment to home to another house. Like every girl who grew up in the 90’s, I dreamed of this:
I see now why having a Kindle or e-reader is so convenient. I’m still not drinking that Kool-Aid just yet. I like sniffing book paper. I like page turning. I like feeling the heft of a tome. But, never say never…
I was telling Yobo earlier this year that I was going to be very picky about the books in our library. I want each book to be carefully chosen for its value. Lately, the books I’m bringing in are cookbooks. I have a future project in my mind where I will put a blurb in each book and state why it is valuable and belongs in our library. I probably won’t get around to it until I’m friggin’ old, but it’s a backburner To-Do item.
IN OTHER NEWS:
// I really like how Kurt Sutter canceled his own show in his irreverent way (not wasting time and money) and is trying to make sure that his Sons of Anarchy spin-off on the Mayans is authentic. Steps towards being positively proactive about race in entertainment!
// Also debating whether or not I will have fancy napkins on Thanksgiving. If yes, which of these folds will I end up going with? Decisions…
// Discovered a cool new blog that I think will end up on my blogroll. She’s got a smart voice that doesn’t meander hither and thither.