So there’s no Franklin W. Dixon ( or Carolyn Keene for that matter, sorry Nancy Drew fans) But Frank and Joe Hardy lived nice lives in the books.
All volumes written by various ghostwriters ( who were paid very little and received NO royalties). First published in 1927. I’d heard this but never paid much attention until I was at Book Club and saw them all lined up with the great bright blue spines. (Thank you Lisa and Richard) Click to read more about the Hardy Boys and Mr. Edward Stratemeyer’s Syndicate.
You tell me my old books smell
like a Goodwill bin.
Old dust and stick your nose in,
The weight of them
on the house’s foundation.
My hardwood floors sag.
You say I’m impaired
Society will evolve without me?
All I need in my life
is an e-reader not musty books.
I like the feel of them in my hand.
Turn them over, slip off a dustjacket.
See the author peer back at me.
The opening of the first page.
Or a slender bookmark to hold my place.
I’m sad they’re closing the store.
My list of reasons to read
from a page (or your preferred screen)–
maps, cooking, and signs,
travel or how to put something together
but for me
reason number one. Two and three.
There’s my mother’s voice
my dad’s, in certain volumes
reading to me-
the escape I mentioned before.
And enjoyment. Sheer enjoyment.
I’m sure you can think of more.