You’re probably wondering what a bibliophile is and as luck would have it, I’m wondering the exact same thing. According to my trusted adviser, Urban Dictionary, a bibliophile is someone who loves and loves to collect books, with a big emphasis on the collecting part, at least for me anyways. I not only love to read for the thrill of reading, but also for the books themselves. I will only stoop to kindle use during desperate times. There is just something about holding a book in your hands while reading, so engrossed in the story, that at times you accidentally hold a little too tight and bend the book, momentarily living within the pages. It’s almost as if it adds to your memory of the time you shared with the characters, or a little piece of the wisdom that you’ll carry with you for life. I’ll occasionally just run my hands along the books in my bookcase, reliving the triumph, sorrow, or laughter that each one of them holds.
When I was little, I was EXTREMELY shy and had little interest in going out to play. I used to tell my Mother when asked, “I am shy of those” and much preferred to stay in the safety of my room with my books and the other magical realities they gave me. Now, instead of shy, I have grown into the more matured label of introvert. I would go a step further and call my self an extroverted introvert, meaning I love and can do the whole people thing, but only for a certain amount of time, and then I have to retreat to my hole, recharge and curl up with some wine and a good book.
I’ll be sharing my thoughts on books I’ve recently read and past favorites sprinkled in between. Expect to hear about all sorts of genres (fiction, non-fiction, self-improvement, magical realism, etc).
Currently reading: Bone Clocks, by David Mitchell