Per a suggestion in my comments (thanks Jenn), I enjoyed a relaxing afternoon in Cranbury this past weekend, spending over an hour in a really cool used bookstore, previously unknown to me, called the Cranbury Bookworm.
The place is an old house with almost every inch of wall space in most of the rooms and closets, upstairs and downstairs, covered with rows and rows of wonderfully musty-smelling used books.
Naturally, I gravitated toward the science fiction section, alphabetically zeroing in on the letter H. There’s just something about Robert Heinlein’s books that are just so comforting to me. Three more of his books are now on my shelf, and I’ve started to read Job: A Comedy of Justice.
Every time I read or re-read or (re-re-read) one of his books, it really does feel like I’m visiting an old friend. It’s a good thing that he was so prolific.
…time for me to burn through a few more chapters before nodding off.
I’m glad you were able to experience the wonder of the bookworm. I just happened to find this post by accident in a search, but I’m glad I did :)