Book Love.

What is it really?

Is it the caring and appreciation for a baby of the authors mind?

Is it the hours of pleasure for the reader within solitary confines of the cover of the book?

Is it that sense of wanting to share the book or thoughts with friends or strangers?

Is it that rush you get when you buy one, that rush which remains even when you are done with the book?

Is it that trick question you ask about books that you love to test anothers state of mind or personality without speaking about anything less personal than their thoughts?

Is it asking the one that you love to read that break up letter in a The sense of an ending by Julian Barnes?

Take the The Accidental Apprentice by Vikas Swarup is it just a silly story or are there strings attached to reality to make people think – aha – that seems familiar. That happened really nah? Is it just fiction or a little more than fiction.

Take Animal farm by Orwell, such a pretty little beast. Still relevant today as it was the day she was published. Replace the context of communism with any social system and you begin to get the picture.

Take religious texts which are THE all time bestsellers, yes morals being preached are a good thing, dividing is not and division is what these texts offer. Do you not yet get the picture? Take the time too look out of your box, have a discussion about other books learn, be better. We are all one.

As book sellers, our function in society is the reason why we are here and choose to be here for some time to come.

I really am not sure what book love is, but I am certain it will remain till death do us apart.

book love

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