From the article:
However, when I’m sick or stressed I prefer what Smart Bitches Trashy Books refers to as “dead tree books.” There’s something nostalgic about holding a book, feeling its weight and turning the pages. My mom read to me every night until I was seven or eight, even though by that point I’d been reading on my own for several years. My first job was at the public library. Throughout my twenties I’d walk around Borders if I needed to clear my head, and last week after a grueling day at the office I found myself at the library next door to my apartment. Something about holding a book just calms me — it’s like a touchstone beaming its magical healing powers straight to my exhausted, overwhelmed mind.
Read more at Persephone Magazine.
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