Whenever I visit my local library, I always stop in and check out the used section. It's fun to pick up something new, or even an old favorite, for $1. We live in a small town, and there's an "honor" box secured to the wall, where we put our money. But on lucky days, there's an elderly woman who sits in there, knitting, and welcomes people like me who come to peruse the selection.
Speaking with her always brightens my day. We chat about our favorite authors, and our favorite books. Just a couple of days ago we discussed the upcoming Nicholas Sparks movie, The Lucky One. She's reading the book right now, trying to finish it before the movie comes out. I've read it before, and want to re-read it before I see the film. We're generations apart, and yet we share wonderful conversations about stories.
My son is a freshman in high school, and we carpool with a beautiful girl his age. She's a fellow bookworm, and I enjoy talking with her. We compare stories we've read, and how we feel about movie adaptations. We talk about books that made us laugh, made us cry, and made us think.
The woman at the library, the teen girl, and myself--each of us from different generations--have all read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Besides reading a beloved book, I can't think of something else where we'd all three experience similar emotions. Maybe music. Maybe art. But to me, books are unique in this way. There's a certain thrill that comes from talking about our favorites with fellow book lovers, despite a generation gap.
I suppose I have no real point except to say that I love chatting about books with all of you. It brings joy to my life, and I'm grateful.
So thanks for stopping by, and thanks for chatting about books.
Have you ever discussed books with someone from a different generation? Did you share similar opinions or emotions about a classic? Were you wildly off track? I'd love to hear your stories.
And to all you brave A-Zers, good luck to you during April. I look forward to reading your posts!