Ramblings of a Bibliophile

Do you love the smell of musty old books? Do you drink it in like a new perfume? Would you rather spend an afternoon leafing through volumes of poetry and turning the crackling pages of worn novels, than sifting through racks of clothing in a mall? If so, my friend, you are most definitely a bibliophile, a lover of books. Now, don't get me wrong, I like shopping as much the next girl, but for some reason I'd rather sort through labels that say "History," "Fiction," and "Russian Literature" than ones saying Aeropostale, American Eagle, or Gap. I prefer used bookstores to new as well. For me,  there is something magical about volumes of books that have to be searched through, gingerly picked up, and lovingly cared for because they've already been passed through several other sets of hands. 

I recently made a visit to my favorite bookstore. Located inside of an old tobacco warehouse, the wooden floors are creaky, the musty book smell perfect, and it's shelves are full to the brim with every genre you could think of. It really is better than any mall.

Driftless Books

Perfection.

At the end of an hour of ecstatic exploration, I managed to come away spending under 20 dollars for a beautiful copy of Shakespeare's collected works and a book containing two of Steinbeck's novels. This bibliophile couldn't be happier.