 | | 2016-08-10 00:21
From blog Amy Nelson
old books, old friends
The days between today and the last time I read a new book is longer than I care to admit. It seems that all of my reading is done with two palms holding a phone to my face. It's not so bad when you're just seeking the sentences and their words, ones that live to move or educate you, but when you're looking for the scent of once living trees to dance against your skin and make you feel closer to a stranger who calls themselves a writer, you want to be paper back bound. I can't even bring to memory the last time I read a new book. Instead, I am always rereading the old ones I own or finding books with battered and dusty spines at the thrift store. If I go...
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