Readers

My mission in life is to turn as many people as I can into readers. Being a reader is not the same as being one who reads, and the difference is not just quantitative. Readers devour books, talk about them, get turned on by them. They haunt bookshops and libraries and can see few better ways to pass the afternoon (or the morning, or the evening) than with a good book (or three). Readers share books and allow themselves to be transformed by them. If you regularly look at this blog, then the chances are that you fall into this category of human being.

The question is: what about the rest? I am regularly shocked by the number of people who say they don’t read. They say it openly, in public, to others… to me. Don’t they know who they’re dealing with? I guess not if I just met them, but I’ve had interviewees for the library inform me of the same thing, and with pride. Needless to say, they didn’t get hired. When I meet someone new, one of the first questions I ask is: what do you like to read? If that induces a sheepish grin, especially one followed by an “I don’t really read books but I read magazines and newspapers”, I shrink back in horror and get twitchy.

If I like you, chances are I will ask for a list of your favourite books to get an idea of what makes you tick. I love these because they’re highly indicative, in a “tell me what you read and I’ll tell you who you are” kind of way. I also do actually pick up a title or two from these bibliographies. It makes me feel as if I’m spending time with that person, which is kind of nice if I haven’t spoken to them in a while.

I can’t imagine life without books, so integral are they to my person. I think if you would examine my heart tissue under a microscope, you’d find tiny books instead of cells.