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My dad tells me he is going to put some things up for sale on ebay. His uncle's old Leica. A crappy monitor. Our encyclopedia, dated somewhere in the 70's. When I was young, my father had a standard response to complaints of boredom, nothing to read: Read the encyclopedia, he'd say. My favorite was the 'Se-Sz' book. (Shakespeare summaries. Seven Wonders of the World. Fun stuff). I asked him not to sell it, if he just needed the shelf space I'd move them to my apartment or box them.

Books are old friends. They are what kept me warm on many a cold childhood morning, they are what kept me busy through many a school bus ride, they are what kept me quiet through many more classes than I was interested in. Books are like that, books are the easiest route to elsewhere, and if the book speaks to me in any way, it is likely going to become part of my collection.

What is the last book you have read?

I always lie in response to that one, for it is not 'the last one' that matters but the one that took me the furthest away that should be shared with others, is this not so?

Read this one. It's great. And this one. Oh, YES! I forgot all about this one. Awesome, read this one too!

I am selfish, I do not like to give away my books, (the ones that really meant something) I want to share them without sharing, and I am effusive, enthuisiastic, and honest about this. Read this, I will say. You can't have my copy, but take it out from the library. Or buy it Soho, I know they have it this week'. And I will tell you about the book, why I liked it or why it spoke to me, and failing that, I can tell you how it compared to other books by the same author, or how the author's formulaic plots still get to me.

Sometimes it's the book. Sometimes it's the author. Sometimes it's both. My favorite public library; the best places to get your books, all of it. I will node my library, word by word.

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