Y'all know what I mean. We voraciously borrow library materials, buy novels, surf the blogosphere, visit book sales, attend poetry readings...and end up with a stack of stuff that we're dying to read.
But we can't read it all. There's absolutely no way. Even if I quit all my jobs and spent every day reading, there's no way I could get through the mountains of great literature that I crave.
Stefan and I lament this fact constantly. Last fall, when we got back from the "Giant Book Sale" at the library, we each had a fresh stack of classics.
"Look at this AMAZING early edition of Jane Eyre!" I crowed.
He nodded enthusiastically. We spent the afternoon examining my tiny bookshelf, taking out the stuff I didn't need anymore and replacing them with the day's finds. They're all there now, and I admire them and flip through them when I'm able to.
But before you start thinking I'm just some high-brow snot, I must tell you that I even get backed up with fashion magazines. Right now I'm squelching the urge to buy the new Marie Claire, for example, because I haven't gotten through Vogue yet.
But what I've come to realize is, writers and readers just wanna be surrounded by words at all times. Even if they can't always be read.
i own that American Crawl & love it, too! My favorite poem is his writing about being up late - he decides to move his daughter's play people around in her playhouse.. i'll have to go find the book to tell you the title & page number.. it has just always been glued to my brain for some reason
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