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 . . . “