First of all, there is the serendipity of it all.

It is that fated moment when you’re in a book store or a library, running your finger over all those solid  spines, searching for the title of the book that you think you’ve come to find…when…something completely different catches your eye.

Something on that random book’s cover, or on the jacket flap or the way the font is arranged, begs you to crack it open.

And by opening that cover, you suddenly find that you are walking down a very different path than the one you thought you were on.

Libraries and bookstores achieve what Amazon cannot.

Amazon and Abe Books are lovely inventions but they build their virtual bookshelf content on the “if you like this” than “may we suggest this similar item” concept.

But having a book find you is a full-on sensory experience that by its very randomness speaks of treasures discovered and secrets unearthed.

There is the heady smell of paper and ink, the tactile softness of the pages and the just-right heft of all those words held within such a timeless invention; a portable package that can be thrown in a beach bag, lives for scribbled notes in the margins, can easily survive the damp of the tub or repeated drops to the floor.

But mainly, it is the incredible ability this previously-unknown-to-you book has to open up worlds completely outside of your regular experience.

And on that note, may I recommend a writer that recently found me. I have just finished reading Take One Candle, Light a Room by Susan Straight.

I can think of no other fiction that has provided me with more understanding of what it might be like to grow up black in America. I’m looking forward to reading more of her books, but who knows what I’ll find when I go looking for her titles.

There’s treasure on those shelves.

Related Reading:

Reading Fiction Improves Empathy