The world would be a better place if more people cracked open a
Some of the greatest memories from my childhood involve me with a book in my hand. My Parents owned a Ford Ranger truck. There was a boot in the sliding windows so that the truck and the topper on the back were joined. Daddy put astroturf in the back of the truck. On long vacation drives I would stay in the back of the truck for the ride to wherever we were going. (Gasp! Nowadays that would be considered child abuse!) We normally spent vacations at Daytona Beach, Florida. I would have a stack of books and would read them on the way, on the beach and on our return. The first “series” I can remember reading was the Little House On The Prairie set. I know it has been in the news of late with a retrospect view of troubling language or ideals. But, to be honest, I cannot remember any of that. I intend to go back and reread the series to see why it is being spoken of in such away.
I love to receive books as gifts. It allows me to realize what people think of me through the selection of pages they offer me. I also LOVE to give books as gifts. I try not to place any preconceived notions regarding what I think a person would like. I like to give them a book that I would like to see how our opinions align.
I always wanted to be a writer. Life chose other paths for me. As a full grown adult, in retrospect, I would have loved to have been a journalist or a photojournalist. I believe it would be immensely rewarding to do the research, craft the story from the facts you found yourself, and then sharing your work with a world who siphons up every headline. My Mother thought it would be more responsible of me to “do books” instead of writing them. So, bookkeeping it was. And for fun I dabble in writing this blog. Maybe one day the wind will change course and I will find myself weaving a more substantial tale for people to take in and enjoy. Cross your fingers for me, that would be a dream come true.
If I could offer one bit of advice for young people it would be to read as much and as often as possible. There is a book for everyone. Graphic, cook, self-help, etc. Hell, coloring books with words. Read magazines or newspapers. Every time you enjoy the printed word, you open your brain up to new experiences and possibilities.
Yes, that is my personal library, crammed pack with hundreds of books on more subjects than I care to mention. This past year I have taken to listening to books on Audible due to poor vision. I am working to improve that though. But there is nothing like having a good book in your hand and turning actual pages. This is only one wall. There is so much to this library. Genealogy, travel, children’s, YA, old people. Foxfire. Gabaldon. Martin. Harris. Encyclopedias. Map books. Beatrix Potter’s gardening novels. I love them all. And intertwined with those books are a thousand whatnots. I can sit at my desk writing, reading or working on household paperwork and feel the room wrapped around me like a security blanket. All of that knowledge in one room.