*Get $10 off a 3-month subscription with the code: DEC14SELECT
We recently had a work freebie day in which we got to all go holiday shopping together in the city after meeting up for breakfast and coffee. After sitting, bewildered, in the office for a few minutes (I've been done holiday shopping for quite a while now), I discovered that a colleague who has lived here for two years has never been to our world famous bookstore - Powell's. Up in the Pearl district, about a mile from our office, is a little piece of heaven made up of books. Its the largest independent used and new bookstore in the world. Kinda crazy. The store goes on for more than a city block and climbs into the sky, five floors of the smell of used and new pages. Ben and I can spend our lifetime and income inside and so we try to avoid it unless we have money to burn. When people visit, we tend to take them first to Powell's and then find that we can't get them to leave. On my parents' visit, we went twice. On my brothers' - more than three times. He even walked through the city, two miles, to visit on his own without me. It's that kind of place.
I went in the other day to show my colleague around and her arms were immediately full - of adventure books written by Portland authors, of John Green books to read in between some classic novel catch-up. Another colleague got stuck in the Gold Room perusing sci-fi and filled a basket to its breaking point. I snagged some stocking stuffers and then found myself crouching in the new fiction section just itching to pick everything up and read.
I grew up a bookworm, checking out the maximum number of books from the library at a time. I was an avid reader, writer, and then English major. I can power through books - just give me a couch and a day and I'll finish most anything you hand me. But adult-life definitely takes away those simple hours where you can just read, uninterrupted. I have too much to do lately to just sit with a book of late. But, I often miss that trans-formative power of a good book - of feeling so wrapped up in a story and its characters that you feel empty when the last page closes on their lives.
Powell's new fiction rack sucked me back into my literary world last week and I've been happily sitting with a new book for the last few days. It has certainly made my unfortunate bout with hives (still unresolved) a bit more bearable. And made laying around a bit less atrocious. I'm currently reading Curtis Sittenfeld's Sisterland - a good quick read that'll suck you in. She was a favorite author of mine way back when (Prep, American Wife), and I was happy to get re-involved.
It feels good to read! What're you all reading?
In non-literary news, I'm obsessed with pendant necklaces right now. Check out some favorites below: