Commentary:Books as comfort food and obsession. byCeeViews

Yesterday I added another book to my car books pile. A DYING LIGHT IN CORDUBA, is a Marcus Didius Falco Roman mystery by Lindsey Davis joined LOVE LIES BLEEDING, a China Bayles mystery, by Susan Wittig Albert, a young adults book, and several professional magazines. Oh, and a little book on obsessive compulsive disorder. These books met my criteria for a car book.

It should be no surprise that I also have purse books, a greater necessity than ones loose in the car.The current occupants are SF paperbacks by John Barnes, and by Wen Spencer, both authors new to me. I have two books because I'm close to finishing one and don't want to be caught bookless.


I got my love of reading from both my mother and my father. My mother read mainly popular books, mysteries, romances, books on the top ten list. She always settled down with a book in the evening. My father read less often, but his choices were more eclectic, including humor books, Shakespeare, and the old West.

I'm not sure when it became essential to have books with me at all time, or when the number began growing. This habit may be a tiny bit obsessive now, but I would never have become the person I am today without books as my friends.