I am an inveterate book thief. I don’t steal from bookshops or libraries – I’m not a complete monster – but if a family member or a friend leaves a book unattended, I’ll pick it up and begin to read it.
When I was a child, this habit got me into all sorts of trouble. Stack of dad’s fantasy epics? I think I will. Box full of romance novels in the basement? Yes, please. My parents made sure that I was well aware of the fact that some, many, all of those books inappropriate for a grade school student. That didn’t stop me from reading them. It just meant that instead of coming home to find that I had hidden drugs or alcohol under my bed, they found books.
For a while, I was able to feed this urge in a healthy way. I worked for a library, after all…
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