My current bedside companions
Earlier today, I went to go see my friend, Liz, and discuss poetry and eat boob cupcakes with her. (I made the boob cupcakes for the end of Women’s History Month… or at least that’s what I’m claiming.) As I walked over to her office, I started thinking about how excited I was to be getting ready to have intellectually stimulating conversation with someone.
Since I first discovered book sex when I was 17, I’ve been in love with it. I distinctly remember having a conversation with my one friend about Virginia Woolf’s To The Lighthouse and she said, “Sometimes I just wish I could have booksex with Ms. Smith* and discuss literature, themes, and motifs all day long!” We proceeded to discuss how our ideal afternoon would consist of going to a coffeeshop and discussing book after book over flavored lattes.
As I grew older and entered the realm of college, I had more and more booksex. Being an English major fulfilled my desires to have intellectually stimulating conversations about novels, plays, and even poems! I’ve spent much of the past four years having my brain explode with satisfaction over intellectually stimulating conversation. I really have been blessed with discovering a major that excites me on a regular basis.
Unfortunately, I find the availability of those willing to have booksex dying down. People no longer read for pleasure. Instead, they go on Facebook, watch mindless tv, and eat. I’m guilty of doing all of these things, and it saddens me that I rarely read for pleasure. This past weekend, as result of a combination of being housebound and saddened by Adrienne Rich’s death, I spent a lot of time reading poetry and submerging myself in an art crafted by so many wonderful people. Reading so much poetry reminded me of the Poetry Nights I used to partake in a few years ago, and I began to miss that camaraderie so, so much. My poetry group friends and I would gather at someone’s apartment, play tranquil music, drink wine, eat baked goods, and recite either our own poetry or poems that we admired. It was a bookclub for poets, and it was magical. Reliving even just a bit of that today really helped me feel alive again, and I am so, so glad to have rediscovered the beauty of reading and discussing poetry with someone else who appreciates the art.
Please, do me a favor– get off your computer. Stop reading my blog. Go to your bookshelf, library, used bookstore, whatever, and pick up a book of any sort. Read it, cover to cover, and escape for a few hours in the literary world. If you really feel like doing something amazing, discuss it with someone after you finish. It’ll change your life for the better.