A Real Page Turner

I need new bookshelves.

There's really no more room here...



All filled up here...



(Before you say it, yes. I also have a lot of picture frames and do-dads. This isn't about that.)

It's getting a bit tight here, too (and it's hard to get a good shot with the sofa in the way. There are more books on top of the books on the bottom shelf.)



Actually, I guess I just need MORE bookshelves. Because I'm definitely not going to stop buying books. This isn't even all of them. My mom has my Boom by Tom Brokaw. Traci has a few. Sue has one. Paige has Take the Cannoli by Sarah Vowell. I loaned Helen a bag full when she was on bed rest that I don't think I ever got back, since I am short on chick lit that I know I had...

And before you think I'm a hoarder, I have donated more than a few bags of books to the library. Actually, that might be where most of the chick lit went.

I always have a stack on hand, too.



To be fair, The Pillars of the Earth is Jan's, so we're even. For now. How the Republicans Stole Christmas is Trisha's.

I just love books. I always have. Look at this girl. What's in her hands?



Books. Probably Little Golden Books, like The Poky Little Puppy. My grandfather thought I could read when I was 2 or 3, because while he read to me, I knew exactly when to turn the pages. Jan assured him that while I was probably brilliant, I couldn't read yet, I had just memorized it. (I might have added that "brilliant" part. Maybe.)

My mom is a teacher, so she knew the importance of reading, and started me out early, so I could memorize those stories until I could read them on my own.



And Dickie helped out, too.



(Please take a moment to soak in the awesomeness of Dickie's kick-ass mutton chops.)

And when they weren't reading to me, I was listening to those books with the records, and you could follow along with the story, and you knew when to turn the page because Tinkerbell would wave her magic wand like this (insert a little ding sound).

When I could read on my own, there was no stopping me. Dr. Seuss, Madeline, E.B. White, Tom Sawyer, I whipped through the Little House books and sucked in everything by the great Judy Blume. The Outsiders! We got library cards! Sweet Valley High! I probably read Princess Daisy waaaay before I should have.

I didn't even mind reading the books they had us read at school. Well, except for The Hobbit. Jesus H. that was boring. Actually, some of the time, I'd already read the assigned book, but I didn't mind reading it again. I had great teachers too, who encouraged it (Mr. Stanton and Mrs. Donnelly, I thank you). Two of my all-time favorites are Wuthering Heights and A Tale of Two Cities. I could read them over and over again.

I know it will make me sound like an even bigger geek, but a book can just take you away to another place and time. I am perfectly content curling up with a book and just losing myself in Tudor England, the hills of 1950s Ireland or even inside the tunnels in Carrie Fisher's head.

I had a boy say to me once, "I'll bet you read a lot because you're a journalist." I said, "No, I read a lot because I can." I don't think we went out again...

I don't understand people who don't read, or don't enjoy reading.

I love books. Not just escaping into a story, either. I love the feel of turning the pages, I love the smell of them. Even if I'm just going in for shampoo, I always go to the book section at Target. The Costco book table is conveniently located on the way to the water (and the wine). I can wander the stacks at a Barnes & Noble for hours, just looking for something new to discover, or an old classic to reacquaint myself with.

And I mean books. Actual, tangible, flip-the-pages, crack-the-spine, fold-the-corner-to-mark-your-space books.

I've had conversations with people about Nooks and Kindles. To me, it's just not the same. Yes, you're reading a book, but you're not reading a BOOK. When you come to my house, you see the books on my shelves, and it tells you something about me; I'm an open book, if you will. If you walk into somebody's house and all you see is a Kindle on the coffee table, what does that say about them? They could have 1,000 books on there. They could have none.

And, admittedly, I have thought about getting a Kindle. But a Kindle Fire. So I can check the web and play Words with Friends. With Alec Baldwin. On a plane. To France.

Sorry.

I don't want Kindles to replace books, though. Because I will cling to my stacks and piles like a hoarder. I'll lead the resistance if it comes to a Fahrenheit 451 thing, and real books are outlawed.

In the words of the brilliant John Waters (whose Role Models I am dying to read): "We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don’t have books, don’t fuck them."

Amen.

So, my birthday is coming up. I do need bookshelves. But Barnes & Noble gift cards work, too.

Or maybe a new coffee table.