Skip to main content

HOW MANY BOOKS IS TOO MANY BOOKS?

This is a blog from five years ago. It's relevant to me today. Hope you enjoy!



My friend Liz and her husband recently stayed two nights with us while on vacation in this area. I pulled a dozen or so books from my shelves to share with Liz - who is also an avid reader and wonderful writer. (She writes as Elizabeth Vollstadt and has various books and stories in print, including YOUNG PATRIOTS: Inspiring stories of the American Revolution- which she co authored with friend, Marcella Anderson. It's for children but I love this book!)

THEN, Liz unloaded the books she'd brought to share with me. (She'd also brought a gift for me - a book, what else!)

While she was here there were books stacked on the coffee table, the end tables, the dining room table, and the kitchen bar. A few books more than my usual stash covered every available surface.

I'd catch her reading as I puttered in the kitchen, or at night we'd have tea and then she'd head off to bed with a book tucked under her arm. Early one morning I looked out and she was reading a novel in the white rocker on the front porch, still in her pajamas and with her coffee in hand. Of course, I couldn't have her reading alone out on the porch so I joined her.

It was just the best visit ever - someone came into my world and totally "got it." She understood if I grabbed a book and read a few pages before or after dinner.

We both took notes - jotting down the names of books we'd read. Neither of us wanting to miss a single good book that's out there, novel, biography, mystery, YA, or whatever.

Luckily, we both married men who like to read. I saw Peter with the latest Steve Martini novel. And R was deep into newspapers and magazines.

So, how many books is too many books?

I think the number of books one has is irrelevant.

As long as one has a book on the nightstand, a book on the coffee table, a book in the office, one in the bathroom, and one at the dining room table and maybe one on the kitchen counter, well, I could go on and on. I guess maybe it matters not how many as long as you are enjoying what is inside the book you are presently reading.
That's it. One good book is essential. As essential as breathing.

Do you love books? What books do you have on your to be read list:
Would love to hear from you. Comments welcome. Hugs, Barb

LIZ has a new book out, a YA titled Pairs on Ice, my latest is a short story titled Dear Anne: Love Stories from Nam, my novel Vada Faith, and collection of short stories titled Ezra and Other Stories. We hope you'll check them out. Thanks!

Comments

  1. I'm always on the lookout for a good read. I have a lot of books but my Kindle has a ton on it too. I never thought I would like the Kindle but it's so convenient. However, there is still something magical about holding a book, a real book, in your hand and turning the pages, smelling the paper and ink....Ok, maybe I've gone too far! I've enjoyed the ones you've written! They are great!

    ReplyDelete
  2. There is never too many books.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Nothing can compare to loosing yourself in a book. I read all kinds, both fiction and non. Just finished Anne Tyler's A Spool of Blue Thread and now engrossed in nonfiction, David Brooks' , The Road to Character. So many books, not enough time. (Also feel the same way about wine.)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Barb– I just read your blog. I remember that visit and many others. I Iove spending time with you because we are so in tune when it comes to books. Last year I told Peter I needed a new bookshelf because I was running out of space (even though I have a lot of books on my Kindle, too). He replied, "You don't need another bookshelf, you need less books." My reply, "That's impossible." In the end, he built me another shelf, which is rapidly filling up. Now how does that happen?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

APOLOGIES....

For those of you who regularly follow my blog, I wanted you to know that health issues and family problems have kept me from my computer lately. Of course my mind has been busy coming up with great ideas to blog about but by the time I sit down late at night to write those lovely ideas have flown out of my head and gone back to wherever good ideas come from in the first place. I miss posting. I miss thinking. I miss resting. I miss just standing and staring, as cows in the fields are known to do. I miss all of you too. Reading about your lives and reading your comments on mine. However, I'm the eternal optimist and I see a teeny speck of light at the end of the tunnel. In two weeks life here should be back to normal, whatever that is. Have any of you figured out what normal is, exactly. I get up everyday and try to live the best life I know how. Is that normal? Or is normal different for each of us. What about a new normal? Are we doomed to live our "normal life" fo

Shingles: not the roofing kind...

Just when I thought things could not get any worse at our house my husband R came down with shingles. On the day I had to be at the hospital in Columbus with one adult daughter in the morning and then go to Cincinnati to pick up her husband after his stomach surgery the day before, R gets up with a rash that had turned to blisters. We made a quick dash 40 miles away to our family Dr. for a check up and yes my diagnosis was correct. Shingles! So armed with two medications we headed to the medical center to see our daughter, then to Cincinnati to pick up her husband and then home to collapse and hope that that's the end of our downward spiral. I'm worn to a frazzle and so is R. No time for writing or fretting about writing. I do feel good knowing that I have some contest entries out (short stories and one novel) and will be working on my novel at least two days this coming week. I have my writers meeting on Monday at Great Expectations Cafe and Book Store and look for

Mother's Leather Britches...

My mother gardened all her life. It was one of her great loves, next to family, God, and country. Because she grew up during the Depression, she learned to use every last item from her garden for canning, preserving, drying or pickling. Every year at the end of the green bean season she made leather britches, dried beans that would keep for the winter. These were the last beans hanging on the vines. The beans inside had grown to full size with outsides a bit withered. They were beyond the stage to can or preserve, or even to pickle. Although her fried pickled green beans and corn bread were the best in the world. (Well, next to her biscuits and fried apples.) Mother started the drying process with clean beans. She would spread a clean white sheet on a table in the wash room and spread the beans out on that, giving them space to dry. Sometime she would carry the sheet outside and put them on a table in the sun to further the process. The next step involved needle and thread