Using the public library is one of those standard personal finance advice – you know, get a library card & cut back on renting movies or buying books to save a bundle.
That advice is almost trite, but it works.
And I LOVE it! I frequent 2 libraries – one near work, and one on the way between home and work. Sometimes I’ll just duck in the library for 30 minutes and browse the shelves and fall in love with the fiction aisle. Those books with the elegant script, the intriguing title, the cover picture a blurred tree off in the distance, or a half a face of a lady, or a tiny sailboat off in the ocean.
I admit, I am a sucker for covers like that – they beckon: read me, and I will make you think, I will show you something about love, faith, grief, fidelity, betrayal, forgiveness, loneliness. Every good fiction, I think, holds out that promise to readers: delve into my pages and discover human nature.
Can you imagine – to be able to lure people in with a promise like that? To write is to create worlds. Destinies. It’s almost like playing God. Sometimes I imagine that we are just words on the page in the big book that the Ultimate Author is writing. If Heaven is when you’d get to read all those books that God’s written, I’d plop myself down and never stop reading (except to eat and love – it is Heaven, is it not?).
I’ve secretly harbored the hope that I can write something beautiful. Something provoking. Something that can be read, and re-read, and everytime you read it you fall in love with it a little bit more. Someday.
And how the heck did a post on the public library get to God & human nature & all that jazz? Beats me.