Books, books, and more books

There is an organization called the VNSA who have a annual book sale out at the county fair grounds.  Thankfully it is not the livestock building because that's where the Tattoo Expo was, obviously.  

Spotted Dick in the Loo

I am currently listening to a book on tape during my work commute. The book takes place in London and surrounding areas and the reading is done by a woman with an English accent. I find myself reading everything, work and leisure, with her voice. I do believe I sound a bit more intelligent in my emails at work, asides from the random “bloody hell”, “wankers” and “rubbish.”

Sadly, if I read my emails with a Deep South access I sound uneducated and, well a little special. Perhaps it’s the word choice…….

Reading is a common denominator

Recently, a friend shared this website with me. She got it from The Everywhereist. It resonated with me mainly because I’m a closet voyeur. This web site is like a little voyeur snack bites. I can click on it as needed to get a little fix. Its like standing in the front of the frig eating chocolate sauce out of the bottle when no one is looking. And the pictures are like a little window into the stinky subways of New York.

Also, I love that these everyday people are reading books. I love books! I love the art of the covers. How the stories are broken up into sections or chapters or whatever. I love that in hard back even the most raunchy elicit romance (or as my Mom called them Prairie Patty Getting in the Pasture) books look like historical novels, without their jackets on. I love books. I have books shelves overflowing, stacks in my closet, stacks by my bed, stacks under my bed. I’ve started stacks for The Boy.

I love the diversity of the people and the books photographed on this site. The sheer number of people reading. Period. And the number of people reading in another language. Oh and don’t get me started on the caliber of what the average person is reading on the subway; Kafka, Steinbeck; Hemingway, Mary Poppins, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Malcolm X and the occasional Nora Roberts. If this sampling of people is real, we are a well-read society. But then that would be like the Gallup Poll and don't me started on the Gallup Poll!

I also love the looks of the people reading. Some are so engrossed in what they are reading you can’t see their faces. Others have these looks on their faces that make me want to know what they are reading. Why do you make such a face girl reading “Ender’s Game,” by Orson Scott Card????

So this begs the question: what are you reading?