I realized today how much importance I place on a love of books.
There’s a girl in my office that I have recently started to work very closely with. She is a good looking girl, well dressed, thin but seemed kind of flakey. Probably because I am an asshole and judged her based purely on her looks, something I rail against guys doing to me all the time (that’s not to say that I think so highly of myself. But I am blonde, I am chesty and clearly, there are some preconceptions that come along with those “blessings”).
I just kind of went along with the assumptions that other people had of her, that she was flakey and dumb. I know. I feel like a Class A jerk OK?
But this story has a happy ending.
This morning we were in training together and there was a pause while the instructor was helping someone else and we started talking. And she was throwing out things like “have you read any Bill Bryson?”
No! But he’s on my list!
“What about any Haruki Murakami?”
IQ84! No, but it looked really interesting!
I told her to read The Marriage Plot and to look into the Merde books by Stephen Clarke.
And while we were discussing these amazing things, I realized that a) I had been a dickhead and b) I can’t think of a single one of my close friends that doesn’t at least have an appreciation for books.
I have multiple friends that use me as a library. It was a friend that set me on my path towards Jen Lancaster. My friend Meghan and I buy each other books with the express purpose of trading them with each other when we’re done.
Even my other half will get into specific genres and has a fairly impressive collection of hockey literature. Also? He doesn’t say a word when I walk out of a bookstore with 4 more books to add to the pile of 12 or so that I have yet to read. And he was a willing accomplice when we moved and I told him that we needed another massive bookshelf.
If I find out that you do not like books, that you don’t ever make the time to read or that you consider flipping through a magazine as being literate, I pretty much dismiss you from my notice. I’d venture to say that if you dismiss books and reading, then that’s really as much as I care to know about you.
But if you admit to the same guilty pleasures of 5 hour sessions in a bookstore, then you are probably pretty alright.