First, I want to thank all of those who shared about special books over the weekend. I really loved hearing about all the difference stories that impacted each of you. Some of the books were ones I loved as a kid (Robert, I used to feel sad for the poor saggy, baggy elephant too until he found other elephants who called him beautiful). Some were new to me (Logo, I may need to check outt the Wheedle on the Needle. And Seamus, the passion you had for Morgan and Me is going to compel me to check it out.) I'm just tickled that Gloria Jean was motivated to search one more time for books that sustained her through a sad childhood AND that after 20 years she found them! I just knew there were more reasons why I liked Brian, and his reading and rereading of The Little Prince tells me one of them. Although Breazy didn't discover joy in reading until an adult I applaud her for not giving up and for the way she has encouraged reading for her kids. That's a happy story, my friend! I also promise to Moosekahl, I never have and never will make talent any part of a kid getting an extra RIF book. I've also got to thank BS for instructions on linkage.
Now I have a confession to make. As much as I love books, I've been a book burner too. There is one book so heinous, so dark, so atrocious in every way that I felt I had to. It was the cause of such suffering and needless heartache there was no other recourse. And even though that dark chapter in my life was over so many years ago, I am remorseless enough about it that I'd do it again given the chance.
I read the book cover to cover. I did not come to my decision lightly or merely as a result of secondhand information. I did seek others to join me in casting copies of the book into the bonfire. I actively encouraged others to gather whatever copies of this horrendous volume they could find in order to offer them to the flames. You may be happy to know that I failed in my endeavor to gain partners in this destruction. I was undaunted in my determination to rid myself and others of this scourge of a book.
Alone in my fury, I prepared the altar upon which this wretched text should be offered. My hatred for the book grew as the flames lept higher. I cackled in maniacal pleasure as I fed the fire a leaf at a time. I was going to enjoy every second of this book burning. I slowly ripped each page from the book, dropped it into the blaze and watched in glee as the flames consumed it. I savored each moment until finally I had only the cover left. I stoked the fire and finally tossed in the cover. I felt a burden lift from my shoulders and sighed deeply in relief....
Never again would I suffer through my college statistics textbook! Hehehe