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Booked

     Books have always been important to me.  I wish that were true for everyone, but living in a country where more than half the people did not read a book last year, it's clear that reading a book is not high on the list of priorities.  Hell, many folks don't even read actual books these days. The ever-popular handheld devices do everything for them electronically.

    In the last few years, I have downsized my book collection.  I used to love to be surrounded by my bookshelves and had them everywhere.  The bedroom, living room, office, den, and even bathroom usually had some sort of bookshelf.  No longer.  In my household, we share books and pass them along.  Usually, something comes back to us from that effort too.

    When I first retired from teaching I found that my reading time increased 10 fold.  I could finally read whatever and whenever I desired.  I even went to my bookshelf and read some novels and non-fiction works I'd been toting around for years.  It felt great to complete them instead of carrying them around with me for the past few decades.  I'm ready now to pass them along.



    I think I could best be described as an eclectic reader.  I'll read a work of non-fiction, say history or biography, followed by a novel.  Then spend some time with a volume of poetry and perhaps re-read something from years ago.  Like the authors interviewed weekly in the New York Times Book Review, I have a small pile of books on my nightstand, in no particular order. I also have one book I've owned for almost 60 years that fits in no category and I may or may not complete before my time is up.  That special volume is the surrealistic novel The Journal of Albion Moonlight, by Kenneth Patchen.  For many, this novel is difficult to read because, in true surrealistic fashion, it plays around with space and time.  I pick it up now and again and spend time reading a few pages in spurts.  I may one day complete it.  However, I may not.

    Soon it will be time to find new homes for some of my books.  These select few are autographed by the author or qualify as rare, out of print, or are of such limited interest that they would bring joy to a select few.  I am strong in my desire to move them along to good homes.  I'm not sure my energy to do that will match that desire but I will definitely try.  A small bookstore in my neighborhood will be the first destination for some of my obscure stuff: a chapbook by poet Jack Hirshman, all my Kenneth Patchen books, and some rare books on hobos and riding the rails.  I have autographed books by John Nichols, Studs Terkel, and a number of poets.  

    So what will replace my love of owning books?  Probably a log of titles, which can easily be kept on sites like Goodreads, and the knowledge that new books will come and go until I can no longer hold  a book in my hands.  



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