A long road trip with five children means lots of books to read. McKay’s has always been one of our favorite places to visit. Since they changed locations, we go less often. Yes, it’s easier to get in and out of the parking lot and there is a lot more parking space, but the experience is just not the same. It feels like they scooted the bookcases far apart instead of adding more books. They pay less for books and refuse more books than they ever did at their old location. The employees have lost their flavor and gone bland. The thing that bothers me the most is the behavior of the customers. In the old location, people were elbow to elbow in the aisles. Strangers discussed books, authors, parenting and politics. It was a calm, happy place to go for books. Now, people don’t make eye contact. It has lost its’ community. I still go to McKay’s a few times a year, but I used to go once a week. I’m sure McKay’s doesn’t notice the change. I feel it though.

I like books. Visiting the book store and choosing two new books (because one seems lonely) was once a regular part of my life. Until I convince Jessica Kingsley Publishers to make me a regular book reviewer, my library is not going to grow for a while. What it has been doing instead, is shrinking. Like most people, I think it’s wasteful for books to collect dust on a shelf when they should be read and shared. The reality of sharing books is that they rarely return. It wouldn’t bother me if the books were floating from new owner to new owner. Usually they are just lost or destroyed. The real problem is that I use my books as reference materials. Someone talks about giving their child treats for good behavior and I ask if they have read “Parents are Teachers” by Wesley Becker. Someone wants to talk to their children about Aspergers and I recommend books written by Kathy Hoopman. I can’t always remember authors and titles, but I know what book I want to recommend when I see it on my shelf. If the book is not on my shelf, I can’t recommend it. Then, they won’t read it and recommend it to someone else. So, until I make a record of all my books, I think I’m going to have to stop sharing. I’m the book Scrooge. Unless, of course, I get excited talking about one. “Really? You have just GOT to read . . . “

Pause for a moment from your busy week and read this. I’ll wait. Hmmmm . . .

Did you read it? Really? Good. Then you’ve read a banned book. Now, go read another one.