From literary tattoos to author adoration-bordering-on-obsession, through celebrating St. Patty's Day with longings for Irish literature and a Cicero quote on the importance of books in the home, this has been a week subconsciously dedicated to the vocal nature of book love. As a bookworm, I do not merely read my books, I love them; I do not merely love my books, I stand on my roof (or in this case, the great wide interwebs) and shout about them.
And personally, I think that's a good thing. I think my roof-shouting keeps me tied to the literary world in a way my current career path would otherwise not allow me to be. I think that in the face of the madness we see across the world today, my love of books can be consistent, steady, true.
I am proud that I can find so many different ways to think about books, talk about books, and demonstrate my love of books. From ink on my skin to photographs on the wall to books on the shelves lining each room of my house, I scream bookworm from the moment you get to know me. Despite whatever else may be in flux, that is the constant in this week, and the constant in my life.
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