For the love of books
Ode to Books, indie bookshops, Little Free Libraries
Today it is beautiful and clear. The Cascade mountains peaks are sharp and snowy. There’s thin cloud but for the first time in a number of days, sunlight streamed through the house this morning. It’s just 5 degrees C. Feels like proper winter. I was given an asparagus fern by kind neighbours which likes humidity and warmth. If I was living in Florida it could be an outdoor plant, but here, it needs the warmth of indoors. Its white berries are toxic and it does like to shed tiny plant hairs, so we’ll see if it is going to continue its stay with us.
It’s New Years Eve as I draft this Substack and I’ve had a lovely morning catching up with UK family and friends, all 8 hours closer to 2025. It’s funny how we are drawn to connect with our most precious people as one year ends. In truth it is just another day, another night, yet we cannot help but look ahead and usually hope for more joy, peace, adventure or just calmer waters ahead.
It got me thinking about books (never far from my mind or hand). And how books have been one of the most consistent pleasures of my life. Books have inspired me to travel, start new careers, try new activities.
The India of M.M. Kaye’s, Far Pavillions captivated me age 12, and I dreamt of traveling to this beguiling country so far from dreary old England. Deferring my university place, after leaving school at 18, I worked three jobs and saved up to join an overland trip for six weeks leaving from Chenai, Southern India, ending in Kathmandu, Nepal. It was a life changing trip.
In 2006 I read a novel by Libby Purves that featured a character who was a copywriter. I’d never heard of such a thing. The character lived with her husband on a small farm that was barely making ends meet. To supplement the meagre income they received from hosting young offenders, she worked as a copywriter from an upstairs bedroom, writing sales copy for a large corporate company based in London. At the time I was living on a small farm that wasn’t making much money. I thought, I could do that and promptly enrolled in a correspondence course to learn to become a copywriter before launching as a freelance copywriter.
Books have taught me and shaped me, seen shifts in consciousness and mundane changes in how I prepare scrambled eggs (add a dash of lemon juice, in case you’re wondering).
I carry books with me almost always. I do own a Kindle and love it for travelling if space is limited but infinitely prefer paper books. Having four, five or six books on the go at the same time isn’t unusual for me. Favourite places to read are: in bed, curled in a chair, under a tree, in a cafe, in a library, occasionally standing at a worktop.
Top fiction reads this year:
Once Upon a River by Diane Settlefield
A Gap in Time by Jeanette Winterton
Day of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon
Top Non-Fiction reads this year
The Art of Noticing by Rob Walker
Reason for Hope, A Spiritual Journey by Jane Goodall
Do you remember how there was talk of print books dying out with the advent of ebooks? It seems paper books have maintained perhaps even gained ground over the last decades. Books for me are so much more than something to read.
I love to be surrounded with books, I love bookshops, I love to see people reading. I love to read. I love browsing books in libraries and bookshops. Books are like friends.
In celebration of the end of the year, I’ve had a fun time exploring and learning about writing an ode. Here is my Pindaric Ode to Books
ODE TO BOOKS
Oh books, books how I do love thee.
Your beguiling jackets call to me from bookshop shelves,
All sweet and sultry, seducing me with promises of new selves.
To read late at night or early morning and discover between the covers
All manner of unexpected joys, dark secrets and an everlasting flow of lovers.
Lessons too, of how to live, what not to do, and be.
Whatever you’re facing, a book holds truth,
In fantasy, self-help, poetry or spiritual text
You enter as one person and leave as the next.
Mentor, teacher, conspirator, collaborator with our youth:
A book: a small and simple thing, easily fits in your pocket,
Holds escape, redemption, refuge, revolution,
A friend, companion, confidante, your ticket to evolution.
Writers burn the midnight oil for small coin and your great profit.
An idea sparks and like a comet
Burns bright with long tail
Leaving a trace beyond the veil.
©️Juliet Fay 2024
What do you love about books? How have they changed you? What are your favourite places to read?
Over on Notes in Substack, Inspired by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, I’ve been writing a poem a day for 7 days on the theme, ‘Today Love is … write what’s true.’
The 7 days are over. I’m not sure what’s next …
Independent bookshops and Little Free Libraries (lending libraries in people’s front garden or yards) are thriving here in the Pacific Northwest. Here’s a little feast of images for you.
Gratitude
Grateful for the ever deepening understanding of how my mind works. An understanding so many writers, teachers, friends and family and especially my children have illuminated for me. I love that there’s always more to see.
Threads that pull me
Music: listening to Keane’s album, Hopes and fears.
Novel: Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng. A dark read exploring the story of 12 year old Bird Gardner (who lives with his father) and his missing mother, Margaret, a Chinese American poet. The book is set in an America which has turned fear of China and all things Asian into a sacred, character defining mission. The nuanced portrayal of manipulation and separation is chilling, compelling and sadly draws on historical fact. I love turning to fiction to help me understand more about areas that are new to me.
Thank you for reading. If you’ve enjoyed this post, press on the little heart, it gives me a mini boost to feel the love. Feel free to share or leave a comment.
‘Til next time.