all booked up...

Books. I love them. I love the feel of a real book. The distinct smell that comes solely from well worn pages. The sight of shelf upon shelf of stories I haven't read yet when I enter a library. Developing actual concern and feelings for the characters in the story. Always having a stack of unread books on my shelf. And most of all...thrusting a book I loved into the hands of someone else accompanied by an enthusiastic, "You have to read this!"

Books. I always have one with me. I keep them in my car because I absolutely despise being anywhere with even a few minutes of extra time and not having something to read. I keep them in my bag that I cart to and from work and always somehow find someone there to trade with. I carry my current read to and from rooms when moving about my house; never sure if I'm going to have time to read at that moment or not-but wanting it close by just in case.

Books. I've been known to read several books at the same time. If I'm somewhere and don't have the book I'm currently reading-no biggie, I'll start a new one. If my mood isn't matching up to my current read-no problem, I'll grab another. If I'm starting to get stressed out about something going on with one of the characters-no worries; I'll grab one of my go-to favorite re-reads where I know exactly what's going to happen.

Books. I'm determined to devour as many as I can. I read (shocking, right?) somewhere that if you want to read every book in the world you'd have to read over a million books a year (note-not fact checked). Well, I'm not trying for that (I mean, there are of course books in languages I don't understand and genres I'm not interested in)...but I'll get in as many as I can. And-I'm going to tell you all about it. Here I go...my time is all. booked. up.