Good Reads: An Ode To The Scholastic Book Fair In Lubbock
If you are a dreamer come on in
I have an eclectic style so I like to buy all of my furniture used from consignment, thrift, and antique stores. I always need more shelving for my books, so imagine my delight when I came across an absolute treasure at Lubbock's 1909 Designs- a rolling metal bookshelf from the Scholastic Book Fair!
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar
I immediately had to snap a picture with a few of my more "childhood" books on it. Things I read as a child, or likely would have. Yes, both of those Clive Barkers are actually for children/ YA, but I do have Meditations on there as a bit of a joke. I should have read that as a child.
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
Do you believe objects can hold onto energy? I do, and this object does. Touching it filled me with the joy of thousands of Lubbock school kids buying their paper tickets into new worlds, new realities, and new states of being. I felt that happy anticipation of children circling the best books in the paper catalog, but then ultimately choosing the book with the cover that spoke the most to their souls. The Scholastic Book Fair felt like a magical caravan that rolled into town, told your fortune, and disappeared into smoke until the next year.
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
I'm the perfect age to have cherished children's books that have become cult classics, Scary Stories to Tell in The Dark and Goosebumps come to mind immediately. I also was obsessed with pretty bookmarks, maybe they were a waste of money, but if anything ever had a unicorn on it, I was buying it. Now, I have so many bookmarks that nearly every book I own gets to "keep" theirs.
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
More than any of those other books, I remember setting my eyes on Where the Sidewalk Ends for the first time. I have no idea why the cover of that book appealed to me so much- a simple black-and-white drawing with black text. It called me and instructed me to open it. I had exactly enough money to purchase it, and I did. What would follow was years and years of reading those poems over and over as if they were incantations evoking happiness, beauty, and wisdom.
Eventually, I broke the book's spine from use and the pages fluttered away like so many ephemeral butterflies. I really ought to buy a new copy, but it feels wrong to get it anywhere but at a book fair.
* "Invitation" by Shel Silverstein
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