There’s that moment where you go into a book store and see all the books and your entire being just goes into a frenzied panic because there’s too many books to just love only one of them.
That’s the moment you know you’ve become a book nerd.
There’s also that moment when you’ve picked up some random book you’ve never really heard of and you fall into it like it’s the only thing that can keep you from actually falling in reality, and you can’t help but wonder why you’ve found this book and nobody else has even really spoken about it yet. It’s that moment where it becomes this precious importance in your life and you take delight just seeing it sitting on your bookshelf next to all your other books that you also love.
Then, there comes that moment where you’ve read so many books that you look at reality like it’s on a page and you see things in a way you never knew you would see things. You process life like you’re a race car and life is just the ground you’re driving across, skidding to halts every now and then to keep the thrill still thrilling. Everything is cased in a glass box and you’re just standing outside that box picturing yourself one day being inside that box, but also contemplating why outside the box is so roomy yet you feel so lonely, and inside the box it would be less roomy and you’d be a stranger to everything inside that box. So, either way you’d be lonely and so you read a book, because books aren’t in glass boxes. They are tucked away where only you can reach them and everyone else can only see them.
I think that makes sense.
You know you’re a book nerd when you’ve read so many books that thinking about reality makes your brain turn to mush. It’s when you can’t think of anything except what it would be like to have dinner with that one character instead of snacking on oreos while watching Netflix. It’s when there is no reality except for the imaginary worlds hidden within the creases of book spines.
It’s when a pinch to the shoulder, which did the trick for Alice, doesn’t remove you from your constant dream.
I love books. I really do, and a lot of people don’t understand why I do. But, when I have the choice of being miserable about something in reality or existing in a different time and a different place, I’m going to chose to go to that different time and place. I’m going to chose to read. Other times, however, I resort to writing, which is really just the same as reading, because everything you write comes from everything you’ve seen and heard and I can both “see” and “hear” books nowadays. So, I think writing and reading must be one in the same. And, I love to write even more than I love to read because with writing I get to make my own world, my own characters, and my own plot twists. I can make that one character nobody wanted to die come back to life and I can make the tears in my eyes be replaced by magical befuddlement. With writing anything is possible. With writing AND reading NOTHING is impossible. So, if you are a book nerd, even if you do not write a lot, you still know that writing and reading go hand-in-hand when it comes to being a book nerd, because what you read is what was written.
Am I making sense yet?
So, I guess that’s what a book nerd is. I know the definition is kind-of lengthy in an abnormally long way, but I can’t think of a better definition than one that’s long enough to give book nerds satisfaction and short enough that those who want to become a book nerd get the gist.
I think I make sense now. That means it’s time to go because making literal sense is never any fun.
Jinapher J. Hoffman
Don’t forget to come back tomorrow for January’s Featured Creative Mind: Destani Hoffman article!