Once upon a time, we read books. We don’t mean the kind you swipe or listen to. We’re talking about those sleek rectangular symbols of obsolescence, with their heavenly, substantive smell of ink on paper. But years ago we moved across the country to a modest space, and it wasn’t long before we felt the draw of technology, with its promise of convenience, constant availability and ease of use. Now, aside from the occasional signed copy or special edition to add to our bookshelf, we don’t buy physical books. But that doesn’t mean we don’t love them. Thankfully, beneath the veneer of New York City’s gotta-go culture lies an avid community of readers. Within the bustling city, you can always find quiet spots where people linger, book in hand. You just have to know where to look. Here’s the ultimate book lover’s guide to New York City.Continue reading The Ultimate Book Lover’s Guide to New York City
The books we read are as much a part of our identity as the clothes we wear and the music we listen to. They inform our worldview, build our vocabulary and shape our sense of humor. My father tried to cultivate a love of reading in all his children at a young age. Book stores and literary festivals were common stops. We were initially nudged towards popular kids’ titles, reading lots of Enid Blyton then favorites like Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. But once we recognized the wealth of material out there, we started to gravitate towards books that interested us personally. I went through an embarrassing teen romance phase (Sweet Valley High, anyone?) then thankfully moved on to a wide variety of literature.