I thought it appropriate to post a photo of books since I am currently writing in the public library surrounded by them.
I took this photo the other night. It’s one section of my bookshelf – the section I see every night when I go to bed and every morning when I wake up; the section that contains the most currently read or to be read books in my collection. There is only one book, The Volcano Lover by Susan Sontag, in this section that I haven’t read yet. Has anyone else read it?
There is a story about these books waiting to be written. Actually, I wrote one but it is about 2500 words. Too long for a blog post. The question asked in the story was what do our books – the ones we keep forever, the ones we read multiple times – say about us as people (if anything)?
Looking at this particular grouping, I am hard pressed to pick a favorite. Narrowing it down, though, I would have to say either Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner or Pentimento by Lillian Hellman. There are a million reasons why, but that’s another post altogether
Until I can edit down the story to a manageable word count, I’ll leave this post as is.