The adults I meet on SPD forums (with few exceptions) love to read.
I hope none of my loved ones will be too offended when I announce to the world… books have always been, and still are, my best friends.
I love an excellent book, fiction or nonfiction.
Good fiction is filled with characters who will do what they will do, regardless of how I feel about it. Because there are no expectations to taint my relationship with a fictional character, I feel no guilt, no stress and no regret. There is no social unease. I don’t have to worry that I may disappoint them when my mind shuts off in public. Or that they won’t understand if I can’t attend their party. I don’t have to explain to them my litany of physical quirks. I can pick them up when I have time and energy to spare and put them down when I get tired or overwhelmed. The characters in books are there when I need them, and get along just fine without me when I don’t.
For me to fall in love with a nonfiction book, it has to contain within its pages a gem of an idea. It has to illuminate fascinating information or reveal a concept that excites me. The best nonfiction books contain ideas that are so amazing they make goose-bumps run up my arms (but not in an itchy, have-to-take-a-shower, way).
I am on a constant treasure hunt for answers and ideas. There are no barriers to the landscape where ideas reside. There are no airports or car trips or weird sleeping arrangements needed for these explorations. Ideas can be hunted and mined from the comfort of the hammock in my own back yard, or from under the mountain of pillows on my bed.
In the Sensorina Store, you can see what I’m reading right now. And for the next few days I’ll be busy populating the store with books I’ve enjoyed in the past.