OMGahhhhhh! The 2019 AJC Decatur Book Festival is upon us, and I. AM. GIDDY. Why? Because I love, love, love books.
What kind of books, you ask?
Well..., I like fiction, especially thrillers but also tales that examine contemporary issues or stories that plop a fictional character into an historical event or time or place. Then again, I also enjoy nonfiction, including memoir, true crime, biography, humor, slice-of-life essays, books about writing, travel guides…. You probably get the gist. (Pictured below are some of the recent selections my book club has read.)
The simple truth? At the risk of offending some, I’m what you might call a book slut.
When it comes to books, I can’t seem to get enough. There’s almost always one or two lying in wait on my night stand. But then I’ll hear or read about another recommendation, and temptation will rear its head. I don’t mean to be so fickle, but the library’s minutes down the street, and there’s a bookstore just a bit further. Don’t even remind me of the immediacy of a Kindle purchase. I’m already sunk. You’ve heard of compulsion? Addiction and insatiability? Those words describe me when it comes to books.
As long as I’m already blushing, here are a few more personal admissions.
Confession #1: I suffer from something called bibliosmia. That is the affliction of loving the smell of old books. Only my bibliosmia doesn’t stop with the olfactory sense or with only old books. When it comes to books, I enjoy new ones, too. They can be hard-covered, paperback, geared toward children, oddly shaped or textured, filled with pictures, or plain as slate. There’s just something magical about books. (I found the book below at Target and couldn’t resist getting it for my granddaughter. Isn’t it great?)
Confession #2: The first chapter book I attempted to read was a Nancy Drew mystery that I checked out from the school library in first grade. Granted, for today’s first grader that may not be a huge accomplishment. Seems like today’s first graders are solving algebra problems and tackling 20-word spelling lists. But in my day, first-grade reading assignments evolved around Dick and Jane and their dog Spot, whom they liked to see run. I probably didn’t comprehend great chunks of that first Nancy Drew book, but know this: I carried it between school and home for days, I turned the pages one by one, I poured over the words as best I could, and I fell in love with the mystery genre. To this day.
Confession #3: I’ve never been a literature sophisticate. In high school, I used Cliffs Notes. A lot. My reading comprehension scores were decent enough, but somehow I didn’t always get what I was supposed to glean when reading a classic. Take Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway. As a young reader, I thought I knew what the man in the story meant when he recommended the girl have an operation that was “perfectly simple” and “not really an operation at all.” Still, I appreciated confirmation that I was reading about terminating a pregnancy. And I definitely needed help to infer that the white elephants of the title referred not only to cast-off items but to female fertility. Confession #4: I’m not very savvy about poetry either, but I try. My personal teenaged tastes leaned toward Rod McKuen and Susan Polis Schutz. High school and college classes brought on Dickinson, Yates, Stevenson, and Poe. Later still, I read the poetry of Ted Kooser, Rita Dove, and Joe Hutchison, and I started to get it. It may have been Hutchison’s poem, The Artichoke - “O heart weighed down by so many wings” – that convinced me. Confession #5: I love, love, love cookbooks. But I hate, hate, hate to cook. Go figure. Confession #6: I’ve never met a book club I didn’t enjoy...although I think my current club (some of the members pictured below) is my favorite.
The Bad Girls Book Club meets every other month. We’re a melting pot of black, white, biracial, and Asian-Indian women, and our ages range from thirty to sixtysomething. I’m not always sure how I feel about a book I’ve finished until I have time to process it. That’s where the Bad Girls’ discussions come in. Our views will often differ, our voices may even grow loud, but that’s okay. Everyone gets their say about our books’ scenes and characters, outcomes that caught our breath, structure or phrases that appealed or appalled. The loudest voice doesn’t get the prize. All the Bad Girls win, as we continue to listen and learn. About ourselves. And, more importantly, about things much bigger than ourselves. (Below are some more of the books that we’ve been reading.)
Confession #7: Some of the younger Bad Girls have me enjoying something I never thought would be possible: audio books. I know: shut up! My struggle was real enough adapting to Kindle. Yet here we are. Audio books may not smell or feel like the real deal, but they fit in well with today’s busy-ness. While audio books don’t depict words on a page, they allow me to read on the road. With some headphones and an iPhone, I can now enjoy books while tending to house and laundry, prepping meals, weeding the garden, walking...exercising...closing my eyes to relax and listen. I admit, audio books have their upsides. One audio book I’ve enjoyed recently is An American Marriage (hardcover pictured below), narrated by Eisa Davis and Sean Crisden, whose voice is, dare I say, oh, so sensual?
Confession #8: Not only am I a book slut, I’m also a geek over most things bookstore- or author-related. One of my favorite possessions is my female authors umbrella (below left), purchased in the independent Eagle Eye Book Shop tent at the AJC Decatur Book Festival several years ago. And, at the risk of sounding like a stalker (which I’m not, really), I admit I hollered “Stop! Detour!” to Rice as our rental car neared a certain exit on Interstate 95 during our 2017 summer road trip. Yup, I’m one of those people who had to stop for pictures of what is reportedly Stephen King’s house in Bangor, Maine. If it’s not his house, it should be. Just check out that three-headed serpent on the fence post (pictured below right).
Confession #9: It’s a source of delight to me that my children and my grandchildren all seem to love books, too. (Below left, Britton started reading to Charli shortly after she was born in spring 2018.) I don’t take credit for it, but I do feel an extra surge of connection when the boy kicks it to the absolute next level to share his geek side over books (below right).
Confession #10: I’d love it if our paths crossed at the AJC Decatur Book Festival— https://www.decaturbookfestival.com/, Friday, August 30 through Sunday, September 1. It’s one of the largest independent book festivals in the country held each Labor Day weekend in downtown Decatur, Georgia. If you’re not able to make it this year, mark your calendar for another year down the road. It truly is an incredible event.
Take it from me, a self-professed and unabashed book slut.
Cheers…and happy reading! J
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