The story is enough.

The story is enough.
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Friday, December 4, 2015

Christmas Books


 

Christmas is one of my favorite times of year... and of course, it demands Christmas books.

Here are (only) five of my (many) favorites:


  • The Homecoming - Earl Hamner, Jr
  • The Snowman - Raymond Briggs
  • The Christmas Sweater - Glenn Beck
  • Miracle on 34th Street - Valentine Davies
  • Little House on the Prairie (the chapter titled "Santa Claus") - Laura Ingalls Wilder
Photo credit: https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT9-D8O0eQarR_uE0ggopOYRyGpzErrdHly4-R4qOt0IXrdO_rNnw


Wednesday, April 22, 2015

The ways I show my books they are loved...

Image result for books stock photo
The ways I show my books they are loved:
  • I always have one in my purse.
  • I take them into the bath.
  • Some were rescued from library throw-away piles and "free" boxes at yard sales.
  • They are slept on and with. All drool is carefully wiped off.
  • I read them.
  • I hold them.
  • I flip through their pages.
  • I rearrange them.
  • I write notes in them - about the plot, an idea for my next story, phone numbers, grocery lists, doodles.
  • I break bindings.
  • I free them from tight and unfashionable book jackets.
  • They are spider-squishers.
  • I have used them as step-stools and seats.
  • I dog-ear pages.
  • I eat salads with drippy, splashy dressings in their company.
  • I hold it firmly at the bottom of the spin when reading on the couch.  In bed, the top of the spine is held tightly.
  • I bandage ripped pages with tape.
  • They sit in the sun all day with me.
  • I stack them on the floor for ambience, and so as to not cram them into my over-full shelves.
  • I keep the ones that were left out in the rain and have been dried, hanging over the back of a dining room chair, above the heating vent.  
  • I cry over the moldy ones...  Sometimes I will read them one last time before they must go...
  • My bookshelves are on exterior walls - they are insulation.
  • And that fine layer of dust?  It makes each one feel like a treasure when I pull it down to read.
Books are tools.  Some may be fancy tools, where you are told to "look with your eyes and not your hands".  That is understandable.  

But my books?  Those are the highways and byways of life meant to be walked, ridden, biked, and skipped, picking up new friends and experiences along the journey.  

A little bit of "road rash" is a sign of a book well-loved.

For proper book-care...
http://www.loc.gov/preservation/care/books.html
http://www.nypl.org/press/press-release/2011/11/01/dos-and-don%E2%80%99ts-taking-care-your-personal-books-home



Wednesday, March 25, 2015

84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff






 Front Cover
84, Charing Cross Road. Helene Hanff. New York: Avon Books, 1970. 97 pp.

From the very beginning of this amusing little book, the personalities and humors of Helene Hanff and Frank Doel burst off the page. Ms. Hanff is a playwright and screenwriter in New York City.  Her brisk and vivacious tone comes bumping and skidding into the quiet and proper life of Mr. Doel, manager of a bookshop in England.  She demands, scolds, and makes light.  He is ever polite, business-like, and sincere.

Their letters begin in October of 1949.  Through the correspondence that turns from business to familiar, we learn of life in post-War England. The lack of meat and eggs horrifies Helene.  She finds it an easy and charitable thing to send hard-to-get items as gifts.  And while Frank and his staff find rations hard to come by, they meet the needs of the American finding the rare and out-of-print books that will be cheaper than she can find in the States.

The twenty-year-long correspondence is not just between Frank and Helene.  Other members of the staff, neighbors, and Frank’s family all write letters to the American writer.  Helene’s influence is wide.

I enjoyed the relationship Helene had with her books and I was so glad she met her match in Frank.  He knew and understood books just as she.  He could converse with her about condition and content, and he could find the antique books that had become merely long-forgotten treasures.

This charming book was made into a movie in 1987 with Helene played by Anne Bancroft and Frank played by Anthony Hopkins. 

I laughed out loud.  I moaned in grief.  I cheered and I sighed.  I heard their unique voices through their letters.  I read this slim volume – only 97 pages – in one sitting.  The epistles were sparse, but seamlessly woven together, moving us forward with the characters over the years.  In no time at all, I grew to love Frank and Helene.

Even the deepest of friendships can begin over a simple query.