I couldn't make sense of the sight that confronted me the other day when I was walking down the hill on my way home. As I got closer I took off my glasses and wiped them with my shirttail and settled them back on my face and I had to believe what I saw.
Was it my books trying to escape, or was it my house trying for some literary emesis? I know I have too many books to get them all the attention they deserve, but I try to take care of them.
I should have realized something was up when I saw my Perry Mason collection trying to sneak out through the ceiling.
My family did have some sharp comments about my tendency to overfill my den with all my spy thrillers. I guess this is what they were talking about.
I thought they were upset about the books in the living room tending to buzz and swarm at times. I could have calmed these tomes down with just a few sweet promises of warm caresses in the near future.
I have to admit that one of the bedrooms has some wall issues. WHAT?
A Kindle you say? Digital future reading as a punishment for all book hoarders? Oh, Big Brother, won't you spare me that dire discipline?
It all started with a crack.
"Readers are Leaders," I cry and I have the pin to prove it.
So the books took a vote, decided that what they couldn't accomplish alone, they could succeed at together. So they began to form a chain––as directed by all those knitting, quilting and flower arranging books I have––and they headed out the door, looking for blue sky.
It went viral, of course, but these volumes wouldn't know anything about that. Before the week was out, my books were being joined by others who were escaping owners and readers of all kinds because they were not being appreciated enough. Their freedom cry is apparently "We can't take it any more!"
Now, when they can, they build themselves neat little towers that are symbols of "ad astra per legere" (to the stars through reading).
Actually all the book constructions are the work of Spanish artist Alicia Martin who is saying her piece about the digital age.