I’m grateful for escapism.

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Other people have alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, and so on (I’m sure it’s a long list!)… I have books. I love books. The smell of bookstores makes me go all shivery and the whiff of New Book Smell makes me salivate. It is one addiction to which I am quite happy to be shackled, escapist fiction. I actually get withdrawal uneasiness and restlessness if I don’t have any books on hand that I want to read RIGHT NOW.

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Send me sunshine, light and love! :) Constructive criticism is also welcome.

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