Donde pongo el ojo pongo la bala.
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Bookworming it.

Once upon a time, I was a bookworm. Do y’all (and by “y’all” I mean those of you in my generation or nearabouts) remember when elementary schools had the Pizza Hut Book It promotion/project? You’d read a book, fill out a book report, turn it in to your teacher, and get a star for it. In my class, no one ever beat me. And by never beat me, I mean I was literally something like a hundred books ahead of the rest of the class. Reading was my favorite thing to do in the world. Probably even more than playing Barbies.

I remember turning in about five book reports one Monday morning in second grade and having Ms. Bar-witch (OK, her real name was Ms. Barwick) lift an eyebrow at me.

“You really read all these books?”

“Yep!”

“We’ll see about that.”

And she proceeded to quiz me. She finally realized there was no bluff to call when I went into the complexities of the relationships among the characters and which ones I identified with and why I liked each particular author and remembered that once you get me talking, good luck shutting me up, waved a hand at me and dismissed me. She never doubted that I’d done the reading again.

The past couple of years, my bookworming has mostly died. I would occasionally pick up a book, devour it in a day or two, and then move on to something else.

Until the advent of Twilight… which will be another post in and of itself, because I’m pretty confused as to why I like that series if I’m hating it the entire time I’m reading it. But I digress. I have read the second and third books in the series each in one six hour sitting. I had forgotten how much I loved just curling up on the couch and immersing myself in someone else’s world and getting carried away in their imagery and becoming acquainted with people I will never meet.

It may just be one of my favorite things in the world. :)

Thank heavens for used book stores, though, or this addiction/passion would be too painfully expensive to sustain. We went to the Melbourne Flea Market’s used book store today as well as the one in downtown Melbourne. (The guy that works there may just be my favorite bookstore/librarian ever.) My loot:

  • The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini
  • Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin
  • Player Piano, by Kurt Vonnegut
  • Mother Night, by Kurt Vonnegut
  • Bluebeard, by Kurt Vonnegut
  • Jailbird, by Kurt Vonnegut
  • The Sirens of Titan, by Kurt Vonnegut
  • Cat’s Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
  • God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, by Kurt Vonnegut
  • Solar Lottery, by Philip K. Dick
  • Valis, by Philip K. Dick
  • A Maze of Death, by Philip K. Dick
  • Dr. Bloodmoney, by Philip K. Dick
  • Radio Free Albemuth, by Philip K. Dick

See a pattern there? Heh. Our bookcases are mostly filled with other Vonnegut and Dick books, as well as a healthy collection of books by Ray Bradbury. I’m in love. However, I tried to tell myself that for every one or two fiction books I read, I’ll try to fit in a non-fiction one. Suggestions are welcome!

This post had no real point other than to share my book excitement. Aaand trying to post more frequently.