I Missed My Books

Happy Labor Day! I’ve not only been hard at work cranking out the rough draft of another novel, I’ve also been up to something else. Something rather booky.

The last two places we’ve lived I haven’t had built-in bookshelves. I’ve missed my books. Seeing them, picking them up and flipping through the pages from time to time. I’m not one to sit around and miss something for long. My brain gets to work. Creativity surges wildly and unpredictably. It’s always exciting to see what will come of these waves of spontaneous problem solving.

Yesterday a new room was born.

What was once a closet under our stairs is now a reading & game nook.

There are a few things I still want to spruce up. A little painting. More decorating.

But this is what came of me missing my books.

I created a magical, under-the-stairs-place my kids could sneak away to, a nook where I too could escape and delight in brushing my fingers along the many spines.

My book nook. 

And all is right with the world again.