One of the things I like most about reading is picking up a book and having the words flow into my mind, mingling with my thoughts. It’s intriguing to me that sometimes their blending is a smooth homogenization that goes down easily while at other times the mixture is a furious bubbling that, like oil and water, never really gets together. But in all cases my reading leaves behind solid results—my life changes, my mind stretches and I possess a feeling that I am different for the words read.


The first man who shows up at my door with a dozen red roses, a bottle of good Cabernet, crusty bread, fragrant cheese and a beautiful used book under his arm is the man I will marry—because he understands what is important in life. Naturally, he will be a reader. He will enjoy sharing the discovery of a good book. He will love the suggestion that we read aloud to each other. He will lend me a special book from his own library without flinching, and he will do all of his Christmas shopping for me in used bookstores. Perfection may be hard to find, but this type of man would come close.


The oddest book review I’ve yet found is of Lady Chatterley’s Lover in, of all things, Field and Stream magazine. Remember that a gamekeeper features heavily in the novel, which turns out to be the reason for this 1959 review: Although written many years ago, Lady Chatterley’s Lover has just been reissued by the Grove Press, and this pictorial account of the day-to-day life of an English gamekeeper is full of considerable interest to outdoor-minded readers as it contains many passages on pheasant-raising, the apprehending of poachers, ways to control vermin, and other chores and duties of the professional gamekeeper. Unfortunately one is obliged to wade through many pages of extraneous material in order to discover and savor these sidelights on the management of a Midland shooting estate, and in this reviewer’s opinion the book cannot take the place of J. Miller’s Practical Gamekeeping.


I’ll admit it. I do not like the Oprah book club. While I agree that it has spurred the sale of the books she recommends, I believe that those sales are false encouragement. Hell, she could be interviewing washing machines and her audiences would run out and buy whatever ones made it on her show. The books she advocates suffer the same fate. They are purchased. They may even be read. But do they make readers? I think they do not. Genuine readers buy books to read and they read for the joy of reading. Oprah readers buy books to have an “Oprah” experience. Big difference—in my book.   


This week I made a trip to the outdoor plaza where my credit union’s ATM is located. It is also home to our city’s favorite independent bookstore. What could it hurt to look at the window, right? I’m here as part of my chores run. I'm not planning to get anything. Then I see, strung out like jewels on a multi-strand necklace, books on astronomy—one of my weaknesses. I start panting. I head inside. I begin browsing the science section, find about six, then trudge over to the customer service desk to ask about the displayed ones. More than three hundred dollars later, I realize that not just bookstores, but bookstore windows are dangerous places for me.


Assuming any writer from history was available to attend your literary dinner party who would you invite and what would you serve? (Limit it to ten writers and five courses.) In no particular order, my guest list would include Dorothy Parker, Leo Tolstoy, Lord Byron, Sappho, Pliny the Elder, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf, Jane Addams, Nicolaus Copernicus and Bill Bryson. The menu would feature Chilled Spring Pea Soup; Tomato, Red Onion & Mango Salad; Wild Mushroom Lasagna with steamed French green beans in Dill Butter; and Oranges Glacées for dessert.    


A recent discussion among online friends about times and places to read brought up some interesting points. One is addressed in Anne Michael’s column this week—reading a book while dining, specifically at breakfast. Like most people's, though, my weekday mornings are busy, and I am surprised to say this but I have never given thought to spending some of that time reading a book. That is changing. Beginning this week, ten minutes (okay, maybe 15) in the morning are now officially Reading Time. (Weekends naturally get more.) I think it will be fun to head off to work with the joy of a book filling my head. Don't you?


Since her childhood days of Mother Goose, Lauren has been giving her opinion on books to almost anyone who will listen. Lauren shares her home with several significant others including three cats and nearly 1,000 books that, whether previously read or not, constitute her to-be-read stack. She can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it