J'aime ou j'adore???

I was trolling for articles about something or other (Harry Potter, Libraries, Bookstores, or other) and I came upon this editorial in the Chicago Tribune about the difference between book lovers and book likers, the importance of both, and the reluctance of the literati to accept book likers to their fold.

Initially, I aligned myself with the book lovers, but as I read the article, I became unsure of if I was a book lover. I don't always read literature. I have a healthy appreciation for trashy books. I also have a tendency to re-read my favorite books, even though I have plenty of new books that need to be read. I don't always read for knowledge and growth. Sometimes I read for familiarity and escape.

I was getting very downhearted that I might not be a book lover. In agony, I went out into the front room, into the library, and ran my hands lovingly over all of the titles. The books I had stolen from the school library (donation piles, friends, family), that amazing box of books I had rescued from the trash, and the Nancy Drew's I had paid a fortune for on EBay to recover my collection.

Then it hit me. My books had made me a thief, a trashdigger, and an addict. My books had made me deviant. I slept well last night, knowing I was officially a book lover. That, plus I finally set up the exhaust pipe for my little air conditioner and got the room a chilly and lovely.