I have been reading a LOT of deep books lately. Books about toddler adoption and how to cope with trauma; books about the trauma associated with separation from the biological mother; books about raising a child of a different race; books about elementary school aged girl bullies. I even read a book called The Art of Possibility which was about optimism, but was basically a self-help book. Here's what Ryan said when he saw me reading it, "That looks like a book your dad would read." My reply: "It IS my dad's book." As a general rule, I stay away from mysteries, self-help books, and what I refer to as grocery-store fiction. After all of the precursor selections however, I needed a session in glass-half-full lit.
I select books based upon my mood, like music. Sometimes it is to compliment a mood and sometimes it is to change it. Little Women became such a mood balancer that I'd read just parts of it; I took it to Europe when I studied abroad. I've read Jane Eyre and the Twilight series (a grocery store lit exception) in their entirety twice in the last two years. I don't like the radio because I can't control the music; I like to revert back to books that will reliably make me feel one emotion or another in the same way.
I worked in a library in middle school. I filed books and magazines and checked them out to other students. Sometimes, I used 10cents to copy pictures of Keanu Reeves out of the Seventeen magazines. He was basically my only ever celebrity crush. It was Speed. Keanu means 'Cool breeze blowing over the mountains.' That is all true. Even the copying part.
One time for DARE, the drug prevention program, Mr. T. came to our school. He hung out in the library before his speech. I got a picture with him in between his hitting up the veggie tray someone had put out for him. He was wearing spandex. He was not a threat to my Keanu obsession, but he was nice. Don't ever say books don't open doors.
