A confession: I’m obsessed with books. When I travel, I need a whole other bag to carry them. I find it easier to remember a character’s name than the name of the person I met yesterday. Don’t talk to me about the lifeline book fest. My books (and possibly some of the library’s) are stained with greasy fingermarks, pasta sauce splatters, red wine stains and bloody smears because I have difficulties putting them down. Now, I’m starting to find it difficult to remember what I’ve read and what I thought about it. Maybe if I write it down…
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