Book Junky

I spent this weekend with my friend Kylie being a dork. We baked and watched movies and went bowling. But my favorite activity by far was our trip to the local Goodwill where many treasures can be found. I’ve never been to Goodwill before. I’ve been to several Salvation Army stores but this was my first time in Goodwill. To my delight I found the most wonderful hand-me-downs anyone could ever imagine: books.

That’s right, I found books. People apparently donate everything to Goodwill, not just clothing. Kylie is no stranger to the wonders to be found in the Goodwill store, but for me this was a new and exciting experience. I found two of my favorite books for 99cents each. I also bought a book that my brother read a while back that I have been meaning to read for a while now. On top of that I counted twenty-one Danielle Steel books (if you weren’t a Literary Arts major at Lincoln Park you have no idea why that pleases me, and probably never will). It pretty much made my entire weekend.

My delightful experience at Goodwill got me thinking; why is it that books give me such a thrill? It’s not just the stories they hold. I don’t even have to read a book for it to make me happy. Just looking at the books puts a smile on my face. Something about their presence, the way they take up space, makes me feel good. I’m not sure I can explain it.

It’s so much different when you try to read something on a computer. It’s not the same thing a bit. Having the words in your hands, on the paper, with real weight behind them, makes all the difference in the world. My mom mentioned to me about getting a Kindle or some other form of e-reader, but even she knows that I love books. However easier it may be to have all my books in e-book form it may be, however cheaper, or neater, or more convenient I don’t think I could stand it. I actually have trouble reading things online. I think it’s because there are too many distractions. I can do anything on my computer. Maybe it would be different with a simple e-reader, but I’m not so sure. I think it would bug me; staring at one single screen as I scroll through the pages.

In my junior year of high school I got to take a book binding class. I kind of suck at it, to be honest, but I did enjoy it, for the most part. I have most of the books I made sitting on one of my shelves empty of content. In the second semester I had to make an artist’s book. That was… interesting. I decided to mutilate a book I already owned, rather than making one from scratch. I picked a book I had gotten in a box of hand-me-down books that I’d never bothered to read. I burned the page edges and poured water over it to get some water stains. I then found the middle of the book and glued blue and red paper there to separate the two sides. On one side I cut the kanji for fire into the pages and on the other side I cut the kanji for water. It took FOREVER. @_@ It wasn’t nearly as fun as I thought it would be… if I ever thought it would be fun at all. My fingers hurt from holding the exacto knife and I hurt myself numerous times, but after much literal blood, sweat and tears, it actually turned out pretty cool. I realized soon after starting, however, that I should have carved and then burned. Every day I got charred paper everywhere. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson from that experience, wouldn’t you? Nope. For my final project I decided to make a book box with a book that went inside it. Why? No idea! But I did it. It sucked too. Moving on.

I believe I’ve mentioned my semi-obsessive personality already. If not, I have one, so there. However it may seem there are really only a few things I obsess over. Purple is naturally at the top but books come in close second. Maybe it comes from being a writer. Maybe it comes from being a Farkas. Either way they’re in my blood in the worst sort of way. If there is such a thing as a book junky, I’m it.