I went to a used bookstore the other day. The owner started talking with me and said how nobody reads anymore.
That’s sad, but I get it.
Attention spans are shorter. Competition for them is higher. Maybe we’re busier.
But, then again, I don’t get it.
I was reading a book by Peter Orner (Am I Alone Here? Notes on Living to Read and Reading to Live — probably enough said right there), where he shared how his daughter told him one day, “You only love books and apples.” I agree. Except I can’t think of a second thing yet (aside from people).
It reminds me of the quote from the movie About Time, where the son asks his dad how he uses his time-traveling ability, and the dad says, “For me, it’s books, books, books. I’ve read everything a man could wish to. Twice. Dickens three times.”
Yeah, that I get.
As Peter Orner goes on to say in his book, “Only through reading has the rest of the world, including my own small place in it, begun to make any sense whatsoever. Stories, both my own and those I’ve taken to heart, make up whoever it is that I’ve become.”
That makes two of us. Surely, we’re not alone here.