Member-only story
Perhaps the story for another time, I have a thing with books.
My late father was an author of what in my mind will always be “real books.” You know, the ones that are made out of paper and binding. They are typically published by big New York publishing houses and sell in bookstores, libraries, and online.
Of course, even though my dear father is long gone, many of his books continue to sell in digital format. Funny thing — he considered the digital rights to just be something that was kind of a throw-in in his contracts. Little did he know back then that his books would continue to sell in the digital realm years after his own demise.
My mother was an English teacher at the high school, community college, and “real college” levels for over twenty years. Up until only a few years ago, she was still teaching at National Louis University in Chicago.
I only share this brief history for you to understand a little better that books are not only something that I like or even love. Books are a way of life for me much like water and oxygen.
I was brought up surrounded by them, I have bought and now sold and donated hundreds of them over the past several years and one of the many reasons that I have wanted to move into a more spacious home is to accommodate my books better.
