A Confession

Kristen of McCarty Musings fame tells us what kind of reader she is and asks us to confess as well. Fair enough. When I read, my entire awareness of reality shuts down. In my life, I have probably witnessed epic alien battles and homeless men being devoured alive by rats. Yet, because I was reading at the time, I was sadly unaware. I have been living in Chicagoland for nearly two years and have yet to find a used bookstore as good as McKay's Used Books and CDs in Knoxville, Tennessee. Powell's Bookstore is close, but it isn't the same. This makes me very sad for Chicago, but very happy that I will return to East Tennessee one day. I know my library card number by heart. I recently abandoned my wife for Powell's Bookstore while in Hyde Park. I have been forgiven, but I suspect the damage is permanent. My eyes are bigger than my eyes. I purchase books long before I can ever hope to read them. Yet even though I know this, I continue to do so. Likewise, I check out far too many books from the library at a time, more than I can possibly read in a single month. My wife reads faster than I do, but I look much cuter bald. My greatest finds for 50 cents or less: A perfect condition hardback edition of Art Spiegelman's Pulitzer Prize winning Holocaust memoir Maus: Retail - $35.00 From the library - 50 cents Prolific underground horror scribe Jack Ketchum's She Wakes: 25 cents Philip Jenkins' The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity: 50 cents I am one of those bizarre people who think that graphic novels are real literature. Once you have read the work of Neil Gaiman, Alan Moore, Grant Morrison, Adrian Tomine, Chris Ware or Daniel Clowes, you will feel the same way. From time to time I write book reviews. Consequently, I receive free books and am paid to review them. Yes, I am bragging. What kind of reader are you?