I just had a thought about books––that the thing that I think might attract me, subconsciously, most of all to books, is that for every book written there is a person who has all of those words. I don't think I've ever had enough words, enough thoughts, about anything to write more than a mildly-amusing pamphlet. The pamphlet would educate the reader, certainly: they would learn all about my ignorance and ill-fitting brainparts.
Perhaps it's a matter of focus, of dedication to a subject. Some people may think "as the crow flies," I suppose. My mind seems to prefer the butterfly approach. I really, deeply, appreciate your single-mindedness, writers. I love your brain, your life, your way. Keep going!
...and then, LIBRARIES!
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