Tracey McGillivray’s Globe & Mail essay “My story is written on my bookshelves” got me thinking about my own bookshelves and the books which have followed me through much of my life. Her trip down the memory lane, instigated by a need to make room on overstuffed shelves, is probably something all booklovers can relate to. We have all these books. It’s one of the reasons I am not attracted to an eReader: I have all these books. And they come with a history that is intimately personal.

My copy of Rumer Godden’s  Miss Happiness and Miss Flower is

at least 40 years old. It currently lives on the bookshelves in my daughter’s room. She loves that book as much as I loved that book – which is to say, a whole lot. I always wanted to build the doll house – the instructions for which are included in the back.

Looking at Miss Happiness and Miss Flower, started my own trip down book memory lane.

The Bobbsey Twins, Trixie Beldon and Donna Parker (but especially The Bobbsey Twins) were my constant companions when I was younger. All these books have been passed on to my daughter – but I don’t think she got as much enjoyment out of them as I did. The world has changed and I suppose by today’s standards, these girls (and boys) probably seem pretty tame. But I loved them and you couldn’t pay me money to part with them. Not that the books would actually be worth any money, considering the deplorable state some of them are in!

Some of the books are special only because they belonged to someone special. For example, I’ve never read this book – I am not even sure why I have it, but it belonged to my mom. The handwriting isn’t hers; the date is 1939, the year she was born.

My mom was a reader; my father, too. I only had to pick up this book – and it’s really in pieces- to be transported back to my childhood, sitting with my younger brothers as my mom read to us.

My mom was also a big fan of Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. I don’t think this book is the one from my childhood. It could bethough but I can’t tell because it’s missing its cover – but “The Swing” makes me a little teary now.

I don’t normally write in my books anymore – unless I am going to loan them…or they are in my classroom library. I clearly didn’t have a problem with it when I was a kid.

I wish I had taken better care of my books. I wish I still had all my books, but we moved a lot and I suspect that my parents got tired of lugging them around.  But the thing is, now, sitting here as I type this, I can look across the room at the beautiful shelves my brother built for me and I can see the spines of books that have entertained me, instructed me, boosted my morale, made me laugh or weep, comforted me in ways that I can’t really explain. And it’s not just the words – although it’s mostly that – it’s the physical space these books occupy, the weight and smell and presence of them.

And I mean no disrespect, but a kobokindleereaderwhatever will never be able to take me down the book littered path of my childhood in the same way.

Who can resist a list like that? Seriously. Reading is such a subjective activity. It’s one of the reasons why my book club has a rule: you can’t choose a book you’ve already read as your pick. I mean, what happens if I choose my absolute all-time favourite book and everyone hates it! Still, we can probably find some common ground, can’t we?

This list of greatest books was chosen by 125 of the most popular writers in the business today. You can see the list here.

David Orr offers this in the introduction:

If you’re putting together a list of ‘the greatest books,’ you’ll want to do two things: (1) out of kindness, avoid anyone working on a novel; and (2) decide what the word ‘great’ means. The first part is easy, but how about the second? A short list of possible definitions of ‘greatness’ might look like this:

1. ‘Great’ means ‘books that have been greatest for me.’
2. ‘Great’ means ‘books that would be considered great by the most people over time.’
3. ‘Great’ has nothing to do with you or me — or people at all. It involves transcendental concepts like God or the Sublime.
4. ‘Great’? I like Tom Clancy.

Ask a different group of writers – get a different list.

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 Canadians are crazy. You might think our favourite winter sport is hockey – but you’d be wrong. It’s really Canada Reads! That’s right: throw-down, chest-beating, teeth gnashing book banter. On national television, no less! 🙂

Since only the first book has been eliminated, there’s still time to get caught up.

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There’s showing your love…and then there’s showing your LOVE!

Style For Book Nerds: 10 Literary-Inspired Looks For A Well-Read Wardrobe        

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Here’s a great list – debatable, obviously, but great just the same.

Stylist.co.uk has compiled a list of what they consider to be the 100 best opening lines.

What do you think? What’s your favourite opening line from a book?

Much has been written about the loss of indpendent bookstores, about their inability to compete with online retailers like Amazon. There hasn’t been an independent bookstore in my city in forever…and for the longest time, the only bookstores we had were Coles, small chain stores in found in malls. When Indigo opened a beautiful store a few years back – it was a big deal in these parts. We do have a couple second hand bookstores and our university opened a bookstore on a main street in our city centre.

I love bookstores. I love killing a couple hours browing in a bookstore. But I admit it, I do shop online.

That said, if I had one of these bookstores in my town, I may give up shopping from my couch altogether.

20 Most Beautiful Bookstores in the World