I’ve been pondering posting this for awhile, seeing as many librarians might come and lynch me. It’s nothing against librarians. It’s my problem. I love books.
I have a boatload of books from Robby. Ones that I must read if I’m to teach Langauge Arts properly. I have great recommendations from students. However, I have a problem. Maybe even a disorder.
I have to own the book. Sick? Maybe. Buying a new book is a ritual with me. I’ll go back to the back of the book pile to get a book that probably hasn’t been touched. When I buy a book, I look it over, as if I was purchasing a new car. Bent pages? A mark on the back cover? I think not. I like a pristine, new book. When I get it home, I take it out of the bag, and like my father taught me to, open the book in the middle, crease it, then the first quarter, and so on. The smell of a fresh new book. There’s nothing like it.
I know, you think that maybe I have a little OCD. I assure you, I don’t. *cough*
So, here I sit with five books from my local library. I’m interested in reading all the young adult literature that I can get my hands on, but these books…are not MY books. See that picture at the top of the page? My den looks eerily similar to that, and here’s why: each one of these books marks a part of my history.
I look at a book that is wrinkly from the summer I took it to the beach. I look at a book that my first book club loved, and I hated, but I was too timid to share my opinion. I have the first book from my first book group. I remember that like yesterday, 11 years and another lifetime ago. I have books that were passed down to me, books that were gifts, books that mark my life like a timeline. A particularly bad breakup? There are the books that helped me slip away from the pain of it. A great vacation? I remember the book I was reading after a long day at Disneyland. As Cicero said, “A room without books is like a body without a soul.”
Librarians, it’s nothing personal. I just gotta own it. Maybe that would explain my dwindling bank account. (just kidding, Dad)