The Hotel Bathroom Test

No, I don't plan to share tips for travelers in this post. I just spent the weekend in Chapel Hill, NC, where Ben, our youngest, graduated from college. By happy coincidence, I've finally finished posting grades for the semester, so I actually had the luxury of reading for pleasure without guilt. I had been reading Stieg Larrson's novel The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. It has been slow going for me during much of the novel, not because I didn't want to read it but because my work and the demands of the holiday season have been competing for my time.

Last night, though, as time came for light's out, I just couldn't quit reading. Finally, feeling that the bedside lamp was a nuisance, I slipped into the bathroom to read until I was finished with the book. When I turned the page and realized I had reached the end, I remembered someone suggesting not reading Larrson's next book until the third one comes out because "you'll want to find out what happens next." I wish I'd been warned the same with this book. Of course, the book can stand alone. The ending is just as untidy as life. Still, I honestly hope to meet Salander and Blomkvist again.

Since a true vacation for me usually means time to read, I can think of several books I've read under similar circumstances (perched on the closed toilet seat as my family slept in the next room.) Most clearly, I recall during a mountain vacation reading Watership Down by Richard Adams, one of my all-time favorite books. Once the rabbits' final battle was under way, there was no sleeping for me. I had to read them out of their dilemma.

The best kind of book is one that disturbs or even prevents sleep. I read Leon Uris' Exodus that way. I was probably in eight or ninth grade, and as I read late into the night, I realized I could not stop reading while the characters were stranded in the concentration camp. I had to keep reading until they were liberated--at least, if I wanted my dreams undisturbed.

One common thread among passionate readers is the memory of reading late into the night, often under covers by flashlight. How odd that I've had friends recently describing having to force their children to finish books they'd started. For me, a gripping book will demand to be read, despite adverse circumstances. In fact, one sits right beside me now, and I think I hear it whispering, "Read me. Now."

The Hotel Bathroom Test

Holding Court

I admit that my attitude toward books borders on obsession. Sometimes for self-discipline practice, I visit a bookstore just to see if I can leave emptyhanded. I suppose other people have their own weaknesses. I don't love shoes or purses. But I do love books, and it doesn't take people long to know that about me.

This weekend I enjoyed two distinctly different experiences. First, I helped to host a regional one-day conference of the North Carolina English Teachers Association on the campus of the community college where I teach. Although I was far more involved that usual with the details, I did have a chance to participate in one session that applied archetypes of the hero's journey to literature. Sure enough, as we were sorted into small groups, we quickly began talking about books. (To be fair, we were asked to choose a work of literature--or a song or cartoon--for our model assignment.) In no time, we were swapping and writing down titles to add to our "must read" list.

The highlight of the day was the lunch session during which we honored our student writing contest winners and our 2009 Ragan-Rubin award author Sheila Kay Adams. Poet Kathryn Stripling Byer was also on hand to present awards to the student poets, so we had language zipping throughout the room. I left with one of two more books and a couple of storytelling and ballad CDs as well.

I spent Sunday at the High Point furniture market, a trip I make at least twice a year to see the culmination of my husband's work throughout the year, preparing new product and displaying it for dealers. Sometimes, if I have another visiting spouse along, I visit other showrooms. This year, though, I stayed in the Fairfield space and visited with the sales reps, many of whom I only see once or twice a year.

Throughout the day, they will come over, sit, and talk about our families, my teaching, and then I know to expect the question: What have you been reading? I try to sift through my memories for books that are best suited to the different personalities. Debbie, the regular receptionist, is an avid reader and book clubber, so she alwys has a list for me as well.

By the time I returned home Sunday night, I was ready to read a few pages in Richard Russo's That Old Cape Magic, but not before I checked my shelves, picking out a few volumes waiting to be read, moving some closer to the top of the stack. I may not always be able to judge a book by its cover, but I know whom to trust.

Holding Court