It’s been a little over five years since I started this blog, and rather fittingly, I am reviewing a book by the illustrator who inaugurated this space – Sebastian Meschenmoser, a German artist with an unusual flare for drawing squirrels. That original review of Waiting for Winter introduced readers of this blog – which I understand has grown beyond a few (reluctant) members of my family – to my deeply held belief that books have a way of finding us, of making their presence known.
The Hibernators’ Dilemma
In my years as both a bookseller and as a reader, I have discovered a most interesting and delightful phenomenon – books find us. The book you are meant to find will call to you, like dark chocolate peanut M&M’s and HGTV.
I no longer work in a bookstore and thus have fewer opportunities to flip through publisher catalogues and fondle freshly unpacked new releases in the shipping department, but the books I am supposed to find will still find me, or so I tell myself.
As for the books that are recommended by well-meaning friends and reviewers, well…I try to be nice. It’s that subjective thing. One person’s beautifully illustrated book is another person’s piece of sentimental schlock. I am the first to admit I am a tough customer.
