One of NY’s greatest pleasures is that it’s a pretty literary city. With American publishing centered here, on just about any night you can probably find a great literary event going on. Last night I went to a reading and panel featuring new children’s books, and it was a fun event. But I had an ulterior motive: one of the authors was signing a book I’ve read, loved, and must share with my sister. Not only is it a book about sisterly love, it’s precisely the sort of book she and I used to share back when we still shared a bedroom. In fact, when I first read it, I was reminded of a short story in a horror anthology we were obsessed with when we were younger. My first thought when I read the last sentence of the novel was that I loved it. My second was that Katey would, too.
Even though we no longer share a bedroom or even a state, Katey and I still share books. I think I’ve mentioned before that I try to give her my favorite books I’ve read in the past year for her birthday and Christmas. I also never visit her without at least a book or two in tow, no matter how little else I’ve packed. And when she and her family come visit me in July, there will be a stack of great reads waiting. When she bought a new bookcase recently and posted a blurry photo on Facebook, I tried to spot things I’d given her and tag them. It was like a Word Search for book nerds. And she’ll reciprocate: I think there are already five books lined up for her to bring up for me next month.
I’ve always been a book sharer and love trading off with friends or giving them recommendations, but it’s Katey who I think of with every book I read. All books end up sorted in one of two mental lists: give to Katey or Katey wouldn’t like. We don’t always love the same things, but where books are concerned, we completely understand each other.
Am I alone in this? Anyone else have a kindred soul whom they just need to share books with? Or do you spread the word to everyone equally?