A shiny, new book arrived on my doorstep yesterday:
I am really looking forward to this book. Ready to settle under the covers and crack that cover.
But first I will have to walk past the stacks of books lined up along the stairs and definitely avert my eyes away from the Kindle on my nightstand which currently is home to some lovely e-books.
At least I assume they are all lovely. I haven’t actually gotten around to reading them. Yet.
I have no explanation really. Perhaps they are less shiny?
Dear middle child of books: it’s not you, it’s me.
It’s just . . .
Okay, maybe I’m hastily judging the book by its cover, or some review I read in passing or perhaps I can blame it all on high school . . .
That’s my excuse for this one.
But sometimes books just get bumped to the next place in line.
And I feel bad, really I do.
So as to give all my books their equal due, I am taking on the Dusty Bookshelf Challenge, created by Jessica at Books: A True Story.
The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story. —Ursula K. Le Guin
Unless there is an island for forgotten, misfit books?
I guess I better start reading before my unread lovelies start planning some “Chuckie” style revolt against me.
What books are waiting for you?