There’s nothing like the excitement of coming up with a new story. It’s almost like reading a book you can’t put down but you’re the one writing it.
What my husband tells me when I say we need a new bookshelf and “maybe we have too many books?” Of course I only say it because it seems I should but, really, I agree with him.
Isn’t it odd how much fatter a book gets when you’ve read it several times?” Mo had said…”As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells…and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower…both strange and familiar.