No Prodigy for Me.
There are 22,765,967 books in the Library of Congress. There are considerably less in Steimatzky’s. I know that because when I went in today to get a book (Prodigy by Marie Lu. The second in her fairly incredible Legend series), I was chastised by the woman who worked there, “We can’t have every book, you know?” Really, book lady? That’s how you want to play it? Not cool. In my life, some of my most favorite people LOVE books. Not just dabble in books from time to time, but truly inhale books. I have friends who are editors, who are authors, who are English teachers who are just all around bibliophiles. I’ve been known to pull out my phone in the library and call friends in Chicago or DC to find out what they’re reading just so I can get the same thing.
And now this, my happy safe space, the book store. And the mean lady who doesn’t have all the books. Who doesn’t understand what it is like to be in the middle of a book series that is just so good (dystopian society? sure!) that you race out to get the next book. People who LOVE books commiserate with you, order the book for you, search the country. People who don’t love books should be working in other stores doing other things not chastising readers who love to read.
But, I am not blameless in this. This is book karma coming to bite me on the backside. It is because I have absconded with two books from the Beachwood Public Library. I have a copy of Crime Wave! and Alien Attack! that we accidentally packed and brought back with us to Israel. I have dutifully checked them out again and again so as not to pay late fees but this week as I unpacked out lift, I found them. And the slightly superstitious, karma-believing, conspiracy-loving part of me believes I will not be able to get my hands on a copy of Prodigy until I have righted this wrong and returned the easy-to-read, superhero books to their rightful shelves in Beachwood (or until I cave and buy the book off of Amazon).
ps. in other how is Devorah doing back from Cleveland news, I made David call the butcher last week (thanks, Tibor) to find out how they make their kneidlach. Yoni and I laughed at them each and every week (they are HUGE!) and I came back intent on making them. But after many failed attempts (Martha! Spice and Spirit! Ari! Boxed mix!), I caved and asked for help. The secret ingredient is awesome and it works. Hurray fluffy kneidlach!
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