I'd Rather Be Reading

In my years as a Borders Manager Trainer, I trained many new or newly promoted managers in a variety of management-related segments. But my favorite segment was "Managing Change." This topic included, as you can imagine, the importance of change in an organization (such as your Borders store), how to help your staff with change, WHY change is good, etc. I had stories and anecdotes and real-life examples and visual aids, all to help get across my message in my 90 minute segment: Change is Good and Here's Why. And at the beginning of every one of my "Managing Change" segments, the opening sentence out of my mouth was, without fail: "I'll admit it. I hate change. Hate it." "But," I continued, "I get it. I understand why change is important and necessary and I know how to make it bearable, and I've accepted many changes in my life. But I hate change."   And now, my life is changing in one of those big Life ...

Remember the 2002 horror movie The Ring ? Scary as hell, starring Naomi Watts? I watched it at about 2:00 AM one morning, all alone, scared shitless - but I could not look away. When my bathroom sink recently became too clogged to drain quickly, I expertly pulled out the plug and unearthed this: Well, it looked like this, or at least like this hair. Yeah...gross. Despite throwing up a little bit in my mouth, I got rid of this clump of nastiness and tried to put the plug back in its hole and move on. But it didn't work. I twisted and turned the plug, certain something would work, something would catch, eventually. I've pulled many a plug out to clean out many a drain and I know how it works. I finally got a mini flashlight to find the little thing that connects the plug to the whatever - the thing that makes it work . But it wasn't there - nothing to fit in the hole in the plug was visible. Damn. So I figured I could live with it for a while, then s...

What better time to think about Maurice Sendak than Children’s Book Week ( http://www.bookweekonline.com/ )?   Never met him, but he’s one of those icons, those amazing “I grew up with this book!” author/illustrators from our youth. And who hasn’t read his books to kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews? Lord knows I have. We all remember the big hoopla surrounding In the Night Kitchen, don’t we? How shocked we were when some library somewhere banned it? It was because the small boy, falling dream-like through the sky, was sporting the full (albeit teensy) monty. How hysterical to think of that now, right? Those were more innocent times, I guess. While I was working at Borders in Oak Brook, Sendak was developing his Where the Wild Things Are opera in Chicago. So one day, since I had to head to Chicago from the ‘burbs anyway, I brought along a poster of Where the Wild Things Are . Just in case I could get to the rehearsal studio, meet him, and get him to sign it. Amazin...

I love seeing people – catching people – reading. It’s so low-tech, so comfortable, so solitary. It’s heartening to drive by a person sitting on a bench with a book, or standing in a long line behind a reader. I used to toss around the idea of a photojournalist-type project: take photos of people reading, wherever you find them. Like the guy I saw yesterday, stretched out on the short wall that separates West Beach from the running path. He was lying on a cement wall , but he looked as content and comfortable as if he’d been lounging in his backyard in a hammock, probably because he was totally absorbed in his book. Wish I’d had my camera. So to that end, I’ll make that a goal for this month – since I already carry my camera along nearly everywhere I go, I’ll use it more often, to catch people reading. I’ll post those photos here in my blog, and maybe some on facebook. With that goal in mind, allow me to take this opportunity to remind everyone that May is Get Ca...

My Bus Driver Told me to Read The Dead To be fair, he’s more educated than the average bus driver. Daniel is seemingly a bottomless pit of smart-ness, often surprising his passengers (UCSB students, mostly) with his literary/movie/political/religion knowledge and tidbits. So when we had a casual discussion (and how did THAT happen?!?) about books, he said, “You’ve read James Joyce’s The Dead , right?” Well, no…I haven’t. “How about Dubliners ?” No, sorry. “Well, you’ve read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man , then?” Still no. “And you call yourself a book person?!?” he blurted in frustration. Actually, yes – yes, I do. In fact, I proudly, to this day, still call myself a book person. A bookseller, for years, a book reader, a “Book Woman,” as a favorite t-shirt declares, but most importantly, a book person. But not because I’ve read every important, famous, well-known book under the sun – far from it. I’ve mostly found myself falling into thril...

Well, we're well into 2012, and it's time to get in gear with one of my resolutions: "write more." So I spent a few hours today ordering, oddly, business cards for myself. A strange incentive, I know. But having a card that screams, in about five different ways, that I'm (trying to be) a writer - well, I think it just lends itself to making me (more of a) writer. So, cards are ordered and new iPad is more than just a fantasy- I'm even closer than ever to pulling the trigger and making that major purchase. Next on the list: get my butt in the chair and do some (more than ever) writing, dammit! But as always...I'd rather be reading. K8

OK, OK - as promised, I have an new and updated blog! I'm trying to recreate a bit of my old blog...still trying to figure out that trick. But for now, we're starting fresh and new, with "I'd Rather Be Reading." New address, for you to find me: K8Reader.blogspot.com. Got sort of a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Kate