So I was recently going through my Great-Grandma’s book cabinet, and take a guess what I found.
I found original Nancy Drews. Two of them. THE CLUE IN THE JEWEL BOX and THE MYSTERY OF THE BRASS-BOUND TRUNK. Before they were gone back over and edited, and they’re still in remarkably good condition for being at least 30 years old.
But it really made me think…there’s always something satisfying about going through books…old or new. But walking up and down the neatly shelved isle of a Barnes and Noble is so different from rummaging through piles of books and messily-shelved novels at a used bookstore. There’s something so much more magical about the second.
Beside me right now there are four boxes full of old paperbacks just waiting to be sorted through. I’ve been told to wait to go through them (unfortunately), but they call to me.
As much as I love my new hardbacks, my old, ripped, wrinkled paperbacks have so much more charm to them. Going into a used bookstore is like a treasure hunt…one that will end with (hopefully) something wonderful to read.
What are your views on new vs. old books? Do you agree with me, or prefer the feel of a new book?