Tag Archives: Reading

Letting Go of the Library: What Downsizing Is Teaching Me About Why I Read

Posted on by

I have a confession that may surprise people who have seen my bookshelves: I did not build my library on purpose from young adulthood. Not many people set out at twenty-two to accumulate thousands of books. It happens one Tuesday at a time, one impulse purchase at a used bookstore, one “I’ll just order this too while I’m at it” click, until one day you look up and realize you have built something. A collection. A record, almost, of every question you’ve ever chased.

That’s the part people miss about book love. They think it’s about the reading – and it is, mostly – but it’s also about the keeping. The shelf is a kind of memory you can touch.

So when I tell you I’ve begun the slow, painful process of downsizing that library, I want to start further back than the boxes currently stacked in my garage. I want to start with where the habit came from, because you can’t understand why parting with a book feels like parting with a small piece of yourself unless you understand how it got there in the first place.

Where It Started

I grew up looking forward to My Weekly Reader landing on my desk every week in first grade – a thin, newsprint magazine of current events written for kids, and about as far from a leather-bound classic as you can get. But it did something classics rarely do, especially for a six-year-old: it made the outside world feel worth paying attention to. That’s an underrated function of reading. Long before it teaches you anything specific, reading teaches you that there’s more to know, and that knowing it is a pleasure rather than a chore.

The habit had a model at home, too. My father would pull a book down from the various shelves around our house most evenings after the workday was done – not performatively, not as a lesson for the children watching, just as a quiet, consistent fact of who he was. I didn’t articulate it this way at the time, but I absorbed something important: reading wasn’t an activity you scheduled around your life. It was part of the architecture of an ordinary evening, as normal as dinner. In my mid-thirties, I noticed I’d fallen into the same rhythm without deciding to. Some inheritances aren’t houses or watches. Some are just habits, passed down so quietly you don’t notice the transfer until you’re the one carrying them.

How a Shelf Becomes a Library

Here is where I’ll admit something that sounds like an exaggeration but isn’t: My “library” is in fact made up of multiple libraries on various topics. The single largest cohesive library is my collection of books about Walt Disney and the company he built, now over five hundred volumes, spanning releases from 1939 up through  a much anticipated purchase coming in a few weeks. Five decades of buying, one book at a time, on a single subject.

Nobody plans that, at least not in the beginning. 

What happens instead is something closer to what Mortimer Adler called synoptical reading – the practice of putting multiple books on the same subject in conversation with each other rather than reading any single one as the final word. You read one author’s account of how Walt Disney approached storytelling, and it raises a question the book doesn’t answer, so you go find another author who tackles it from a different angle. Then a third. You’re not collecting books so much as collecting arguments, perspectives, and blind spots that only become visible once you’ve got enough voices in the room together.

The trouble – if you can call it that – is that this kind of reading is inherently accumulative by design. You can’t practice synoptical reading with three books. You need enough of them to reveal the patterns and the contradictions, and “enough” tends to keep redefining itself upward. My Disney library isn’t really about Walt Disney anymore, not entirely. It’s about vision and leadership and and hospitality and how an organization sustains a creative culture across generations – Disney just happens to be the case study deep enough to keep teaching me something new after fifty years. 

And it’s not the only synoptical library in the house. 

There are shelves built over the last year for founding-era American history that grew the same way, one book answering a question the last one raised. There are three large vertical shelves on hospitality rooted in the home, with another two shelves containing books on the subject that I have written about. There’s a large selection of books about the hospitality industry seen through a culinary lens. And many more smaller ones: Hamburgers. Donuts. Bridges. J.R.R. Tolkien. Sherlock Holmes. Reading. Shepherding. And not surprisingly, Books. There’s a couple of fiction shelves: All of Stephen Hunter’s books, and the original Tom Clancy works.

Though not technically synoptical, the biggest of all is the general topic of Leadership and Vision – slowly built over at least forty years, first in graduate school, then gaining momentum in three church staff positions, then accelerating 2012-2025 when my job at the time required reading – lots of reading! At one time, that library numbered over two thousand books, but I’ve trimmed it down over the last few years to just under one thousand books.

A personal library, it turns out, is rarely one collection. It’s several, growing at different speeds, for different reasons, until they’ve filled every room that will hold them (plus a garage, plus – until recently – a storage unit).

Part of what fuels the accumulation is simply the hunting. There’s a particular satisfaction in walking into a used bookstore with no list and no agenda, just an open question you’ve been carrying around, and finding the one volume that happens to answer it. I’ve spent whole afternoons doing exactly that, working through curated shelves at a favorite spot and walking out with  a book or two I didn’t know existed that morning. When my former occupation carried me all over the country, you can be sure the first search I performed was “used bookstores near me”. A retailer can get you a specific title in two days. It cannot replicate that particular kind of luck, and I suspect the luck is half of why collectors keep collecting long after the shelves have stopped having room to spare.

The Day That Keeps Finding Me

The beginning of this downsizing project falls near a very auspicious day on the calendar.

August 9th does something odd to my calendar every year. It’s my father’s birthday. It’s also National Book Lovers Day. I’ve written about that coincidence before, and I’m not going to pretend it’s anything more than calendar arithmetic – but coincidences earn their keep when they keep making you think, and this one has never stopped.

Book Lovers Day, at its best, isn’t really about celebrating volume. Plenty of people can point to towering shelves without having been changed much by what’s on them. The day is worth marking because it asks a better question: not how many books have you read, but which ones actually shaped you. For me, that question and my father’s birthday have become impossible to separate. He didn’t hand me a reading list. He handed me an evening habit, and the habit did the rest of the work over the next fifty+ years.

He used to say something I’ve quoted before and will probably keep quoting: “I never made much money, but I made a lot of friends, and that’s what’s important.” He wasn’t talking about books when he said it. But it’s the same instinct, really – the belief that the things worth accumulating in a life are relational, not material. Friends, in his case. In mine, apparently, over five hundred books about a fascinating man who built an empire on curiosity.

Arguing With Your Own Shelves

Which brings me, finally, to the boxes in the garage.

Downsizing a personal library sounds like a logistics problem – what fits on the shelves, what doesn’t – and at the surface it is. But the harder work isn’t physical. It’s that every book on those shelves represents a decision you made once, for a reason that felt sound at the time, and downsizing means reopening every one of those decisions and asking whether you’d make the same call today.

Some of that is easy. The duplicate copies. The books bought for projects that finished years ago and will never be revisited. The reference material now more useful as a searchable PDF than as eleven pounds of hardcover. Letting those go doesn’t cost much.

I started, for what it’s worth, with the “easiest” shelf in the library – a collection of almost three hundred books from a long-practiced career phase that’s behind me now. Once I made the decision, it was relatively easy to call my friend Danny who is the most knowledgeable person in the field, and he graciously agreed to accept the library. Dropping off the books a few days later was gratifying as he perused the books and some of his staff began sorting them for immediate use. This decision was only “easy” in light of the fact that I knew the volumes were going to  a fellow “book nerd” who respected them and would use them appropriately.

Starting there wasn’t strategy so much as self-preservation. If I’d opened with the shelf that holds my father’s books, I’d have quit the whole project in an afternoon. There’s something to be said for building momentum on the boxes that don’t hurt (much), so that by the time you reach the ones that do, you’ve at least got some practice at making the call.

What costs something is the rest of the pile – the books that aren’t really about their contents anymore. The ones your father gave you. The ones you bought the week you started a new chapter of your life and haven’t opened since, but can’t quite explain why you’re still keeping. The signed first edition that will probably never appreciate in value but represents an afternoon you remember more clearly than the book’s actual argument. Synoptical reading taught me to keep gathering perspectives until the picture got clearer. Downsizing is the opposite exercise: learning to let a single memory be enough justification to keep something, without needing to defend it against the logic that says you should let it go.

I’ve started with a simple, imperfect rule: I ask whether I’m keeping the book or keeping the version of myself that bought it. If it’s the second one, I try to find another way to hold onto that memory – a photograph of the shelf before it changes, a note in a journal about why the book mattered – so the object can go without the memory going with it. It doesn’t always work. Some books I’ve picked up to donate and quietly put back, unconvinced by my own argument. That’s fine. This isn’t a project with a deadline. It’s a negotiation, and negotiations take as long as they take.

What I haven’t done, and don’t intend to do, is treat this as pure subtraction. The Disney collection will  stay intact, and even grow – that’s not sentiment, that’s an active research project with decades of momentum behind it. The founding-era shelf is slowly growing, not shrinking, alongside the  current interest and writing it supports. For now, many of the syntopical shelves will remain the same. Downsizing, done honestly, isn’t about arriving at some minimalist ideal where the shelves are bare and the mind is supposedly clearer for it. It’s about being honest for the first time in years about which books are still doing work in your life and which ones are just doing time.

What Stays With You

My father’s books – the actual physical volumes that sat on his shelves – mostly didn’t make it into my collection intact. Estates get divided, and books, unlike heirloom furniture, rarely survive the process as a set. But a handful did make the trip, and they sit now in spots I chose for them deliberately, not filed with everything else. I don’t reread them often. I don’t need to. Their presence is the point, not their content – a small, physical reminder that the habit I’ve spent a lifetime indulging didn’t start with me.

That’s the thing about a personal library that a spreadsheet of titles will never capture. It’s not an inventory. It’s a kind of autobiography written in other people’s words – which books you reached for during which years, which arguments changed your mind, which ones you kept even after you stopped needing them, just because you remembered who you were when you bought them.

Downsizing doesn’t erase that autobiography. If you do it with any care at all, it just edits it – cutting the passages that no longer serve the story and keeping the ones that do. My shelves are smaller than they were a few months ago, and they’ll keep shrinking more before I’m satisfied. But the books that remain are, if anything, a more honest account of who I am than the fuller shelves ever were.

There’s a version of this essay that ends with a tidy lesson about minimalism, or about letting go, or about how less is somehow more. I don’t believe that version, and I don’t think you should either. Some libraries deserve to keep growing – mine will, on the shelves that are still doing active work. The point was never the size of the collection. It was always whether the books on it could still tell you something true about the person who kept them.

My father taught me to read before he taught me anything else worth remembering. Figuring out which of his books, and which of my own, are worth keeping turns out to be one more thing he taught me – just later than I expected, and the hard way. If you’re standing in front of your own shelves right now, wondering where to start, I’d tell you what I wish someone had told me: start with the easy shelf, be honest about the hard one, and don’t mistake a smaller library for a smaller life. 

The books that matter will let you know.

They always do.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Glazed, Frosted, and Sprinkled: Getting Ready for National Donut Day

Posted on by

Though I certainly enjoyed donuts throughout my childhood, a single book is responsible for the fondness I have for them as an adult.

Books will do that to you.

Like many things in my life, this fondness all came about because of a book: Homer Price.  I have great memories of reading one of the stories in the book about Homer and Uncle Ulysses and the automatic doughnut machine.

 I remembered the image of doughnuts stacked on the counter, shelves, and stools with more coming out of the machine every minute.

I didn’t realize at the time how a book about donuts could be linked to so much more in life.

THE DOUGHNUTS takes place in the 1940’s when an uncle of a boy named Homer opens a luncheonette. Uncle Ulysses, much to the chagrin of his wife Agnes, is a man fond of new-fangled gadgets and has installed a doughnut making machine in his restaurant.

One evening, while Homer is visiting his uncle’s restaurant, Uncle Ulysses leaves Homer in charge of putting the finishing touches on the doughnut machine while he stops by the barber shop. Homer works on the machine and is soon visited by an “advertising man” who stops by for coffee and a doughnut.

While the man waits for the doughnut machine to begin working, a wealthy woman enters the restaurant. She asks Homer if she can mix up the doughnut batter for him, takes off her diamond bracelet, and sets to work. 

Soon the doughnut machine is working – too well! Homer cannot stop the doughnuts from popping out of the machine! Her job finished, the woman leaves and Homer and the advertising man look for places to store the doughnuts.

Homer and the man put their heads together and come up with a scheme to sell the doughnuts “2 for 5 cents” in order to be rid of them. Eventually, the wealthy woman returns, claiming to have left her bracelet in the restaurant.

Shortly, it becomes evident that the bracelet must be in one of the thousands of doughnuts. Homer has an idea! He makes a sign offering one hundred dollars for anyone who can find the bracelet. It doesn’t take long for the doughnuts to be gobbled up and the bracelet to be found.

The end of the story finds Uncle Ulysses trying to explain to skeptical Aunt Agnes why there are tons of crumbs from dozens of doughnuts left on the restaurant counter!

Trivia Note: Have you ever seen the short film The Doughnuts, based on the story above?

As I recall, the copy of Homer Price I had as a boy came from that wonderful invention designed to sell books to eager young readers like me: the Scholastic Book Fair. Not only could I order books, but our classroom benefited too by receiving books for our in-room library. Sadly, many years later when my kids were in elementary school, the Book Fair was less focused on books and more on junk. That’s another story for another time.

What’s the big deal with a child’s book published in 1943, read by a first grade teacher to her class in 1964, bought by a second grader as soon as he could in 1965, and fondly remembered over sixty years later?

Regular readers of this website know that reading and books are a big deal to me. Introduced by my schoolteacher mother, encouraged by my daily reader father, and nurtured over the years by teachers and professors, it’s not too far off the mark to say these images explain the big deal about reading:

Books have the power to ignite the imagination and foster creativity in children. This imaginative capacity can carry over into adulthood, allowing individuals to approach challenges with creative problem-solving skills and innovative thinking. Seeing this image, and reading about Homer’s dilemma and ultimate solution planted a seed in me: sometimes the best way out of a jam is to sit and think first, and then act on the solution that comes to you.

Reading from an early age has been linked to improved cognitive abilities, such as better language skills, broader vocabulary, enhanced critical thinking, and stronger analytical capabilities. These cognitive benefits persist into adulthood, enabling individuals to process information more effectively and think more critically. Putting together a disassembled donut machine, then making it work so well that Homer had to come up with an idea to get rid of all those donuts – that’s critical thinking!

Children who cultivate a love for reading at an early age are more likely to maintain a curiosity and thirst for knowledge throughout their lives. Books become a gateway to continuously learning new things, exploring different perspectives, and expanding their horizons. Homer’s curiosity got him into the problem, and willingness to continue thinking got him out of it.

I could go on, but I hope you get the point: While not everyone who loved reading as a child maintains that passion into adulthood, those who do often find that their early love of books has profoundly shaped their intellectual, emotional, and personal development in enduring ways.

All from a child’s book about a runaway donut machine…

…which is where I now hope to make the connection for you!

It’s that time of year again when the sweet, doughy aroma of fresh donuts fills the air and Americans come together to honor one of the nation’s most beloved breakfast treats. Friday, June 5th marks National Donut Day 2026, a delicious holiday that pays homage to the humble yet iconic donut. This is an annual recognition, falling on the first Friday of June each year.

With roots tracing back to World War I, when Salvation Army “Lassies” fried donuts in soldiers’ helmets as a morale-boosting treat, National Donut Day has become an annual tradition that transcends generations. This year’s celebration promises to be even sweeter, with donut shops and bakeries across the country rolling out their finest creations to mark the occasion.

From the classic glazed to the creative cronut, the donut landscape has evolved dramatically over the decades, reflecting the changing tastes and culinary adventurousness of American consumers. Gourmet donut boutiques have taken the humble pastry to new heights, adorning them with artisanal ingredients like small-batch jams, craft chocolates, and hand-torched meringues.

At the same time, the nostalgia for simpler pleasures remains strong, with long lines still forming at old-fashioned donut counters for pillowy yeast-raised rings and sugar-dusted cake donuts. After all, there’s something undeniably comforting about biting into a fresh, warm donut that instantly transports you back to childhood.

There are several reasons why donuts have become such a beloved and popular food in American culture:

  • Convenience and portability: Donuts are easy to eat on-the-go, making them a convenient breakfast or snack option for people with busy lifestyles.
  • Nostalgia and comfort food: Donuts evoke a sense of nostalgia and comfort for many Americans, reminding them of childhood memories, family gatherings, or neighborhood donut shops.
  • Variety and customization: Donuts come in an endless array of flavors, glazes, toppings, and fillings, allowing for personalization and catering to diverse tastes.
  • Indulgence and treat: Donuts are often seen as an indulgent treat or reward, satisfying cravings for something sweet and decadent.
  • Cultural significance: Donuts have become deeply ingrained in American culture, with events like National Donut Day and the association with coffee breaks and diners.
  • Accessibility and affordability: Donuts are widely available and relatively inexpensive, making them an accessible indulgence for people from various socioeconomic backgrounds.
  • Marketing and branding: Major donut chains like Dunkin’ Donuts and Krispy Kreme have successfully marketed and branded their products, contributing to the popularity of donuts.
  • Versatility: Donuts can be enjoyed at any time of day, from breakfast to dessert, and can be served on various occasions, from casual gatherings to special events.

The combination of convenience, indulgence, nostalgia, variety, and cultural significance has made donuts a quintessential American food that appeals to a broad range of consumers and has become deeply embedded in the country’s culinary landscape.

This year, celebrate National Donut Day by indulging in your favorite fried confection, whether it’s an old reliable or an Instagram-worthy gourmet creation. Share one with a loved one over a steaming cup of coffee, or treat your office mates to a box of assorted delights.

However you choose to commemorate the occasion, take a moment to appreciate the humble donut and its rich place in American culture and history. From the battlefields of World War I to the modern artisanal bakeries, the donut has proven its enduring appeal and cemented its status as an iconic American comfort food.

So grab a napkin and prepare to get deliciously sticky – it’s almost National Donut Day, and the only acceptable response is to treat yourself to a sugary, doughy delight – and a good book!

The rings of batter kept right on dropping into the hot fat, and the automatic gadget kept right on turning them over, and the other automatic gadget kept right on giving them a little push, and the doughnuts kept right on rolling down the little chute just as regular as a clock can tick – they just kept right on a comin’, an’ a comin’, an’ a comin’, an’ a comin’.

Uncle Ulysses

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Beyond the Pile: How Our Shelfies Tell the Stories We Live

Posted on by

Today on #NationalShelfieDay – Wednesday, January 28th – readers worldwide will point their cameras at their bookshelves, capturing everything from meticulously organized libraries to precarious towers threatening imminent collapse. But hidden within these snapshots lies something far more revealing than mere book collections – they’re intimate portraits of our intellectual journeys, visual maps of the curiosities that shape our lives, and honest documentation of the beautiful tension between who we are and who we aspire to become.

The Honest Geography of Reading Life

While social media often demands perfection, the most compelling shelfies embrace chaos with pride. These are the photographs that reveal coffee-stained bookmarks jutting from half-finished volumes, library loans teetering atop personal purchases in gravity-defying arrangements, and that one book that’s been sitting unread for three years but might be perfect for next month. They show books piled on nightstands, stacked beside reading chairs, or occupying that awkward space between the bookshelf and the wall where they’ve somehow established permanent residence.

These unvarnished captures resonate because they reflect reality. Our book piles aren’t failures of reading discipline but rather evidence of active, engaged literary lives. Each book waiting represents curiosity sparked, a recommendation followed, or an impulse honored. Together, they form physical manifestations of intellectual ambition, visible proof that our reading appetite consistently outpaces our available time.

When Collections Become Conversations

Yet beyond the TBR pile lies an even more fascinating phenomenon: the specialized collection. These aren’t random accumulations but carefully curated conversations across time, perspective, and expertise. Look closely at any serious reader’s shelfie, and you’ll discover entire sections devoted to subjects that have captured their imagination and refused to let go.

Consider my ultimate – and always growing – Disney collection, numbering over 500 volumes, dating from 1939 to current releases. Under the watchful eye of Engineer Mickey, these books represent more than fandom – they document my ongoing fascination with Walt Disney the man, childhood memories of Disney, and participating in some of the best leadership and hospitality practices that exist. This isn’t hoarding; it’s scholarship pursued with passion.

Or examine my Bridges collection, where each spine represents the human drive to connect, to overcome obstacles, to span the impossible. These books ask us to envision a world without bridges – London without crossings over the Thames, Manhattan as a truly isolated island, San Francisco cut off from both north and south. Understanding the stories behind our bridges fosters deeper appreciation for their history and provides insight into the humanity of engineers and engineering itself. It’s a collection that celebrates both literal and metaphorical connections.

The Power of Synoptical Reading

Among the most intriguing shelfies are those built around synoptical reading – gathering books by various authors around similar subjects for comparison and expansion of knowledge. These collections transform the humble book pile from random accumulation into curated symposium. They demonstrate reading as an active pursuit of knowledge rather than passive entertainment.

My culinary collection spans everything from childhood meals and family cooking traditions to professional restaurant management and food history. This culinary shelfie documents a family deeply embedded in food culture: a mother who became a caterer, an oldest son whose twenty-year career has taken him from pizza baker to pastry chef to restaurant general manager, a youngest son who pursued Culinary Arts at Johnson & Wales and now manages events at a university. Each book in this collection doesn’t just represent recipes – it captures lessons about life, work, family, and the connections forged around tables.

The Sherlock Holmes collection tells a different story of reading evolution. It begins with one book – Michael Dirda’s “On Conan Doyle, Or, The Whole Art of Storytelling” – that piqued curiosity and left me hungry for more, rereading all the stories from my young adult years. Dirda’s passionate celebration of Conan Doyle as a master storyteller cast new light on classic detective stories, inspiring deeper exploration. For avid readers, finishing one book is often just the beginning of a journey into a new subject or author. A great book has a way of leaving you wanting to dive deeper into the world or ideas it exposed you to.

This approach becomes incredibly powerful because it reveals how ideas evolve over time, exposes the blind spots that individual authors might miss, and often leads to insights that none of the original writers could have reached alone. In our current world of endless information streams, synoptical reading is less about consuming more content and more about becoming a thoughtful curator who can weave together the best thinking on complex topics into something genuinely illuminating.

The Unexpected Collections

Sometimes our shelfies reveal passions that surprise even ourselves. Who accumulates an entire collection devoted to hamburgers? Guilty. Someone who understands that even simple things reveal complexity when examined from multiple angles – literary, culinary, and what I cheerfully admit is “arbitrary: based on random choice or my personal whims.” From humble beginnings to current status as a global icon, the burger has cemented its place in hearts and stomachs worldwide. Diving into books about burgers becomes not just about savoring deliciousness but appreciating rich history and cultural significance.

The donut collection explores similar territory. For many, the humble donut is far more than a sweet treat – it’s a symbol of comfort, a trigger for nostalgia, and a wonderful nod to American culinary ingenuity.

These delightful rings of fried dough have spun their way through centuries, leaving a delicious trail of history, personal memories, and significant business lessons in their wake. To find the “hole” truth requires jumping headlong into books that explore the multifaceted world of donuts, from fascinating origins to status as global icons.

The history of donuts in America is a testament to their enduring appeal. From Dutch settlers to modern-day gourmet bakers, each era has contributed to the rich tapestry of donut lore. So next time you savor a donut, remember that you’re partaking in a delicious slice of American history.

Literary Pilgrimages and Family Legacies

Some collections document decades-long relationships with particular authors or universes. My Tolkien collection began in junior high with “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings” and expanded over subsequent decades to include not only multiple re-readings but all of Tolkien’s published and unpublished works, plus books written about Tolkien’s work by other authors. These aren’t books merely owned – they’re territories explored and re-explored, landscapes that continue shaping how we think, feel, and dream.

The Stephen Hunter collection traces another kind of journey – following Bob Lee Swagger, “the Nailer,” through a sprawling multi-generational saga that meticulously builds a family legacy of marksmen, lawmen, and warriors stretching back over two hundred years. Since 1993’s “Point of Impact,” readers have followed not just one hero but an entire lineage, understanding that sometimes our greatest stories aren’t contained in single volumes but unfold across entire series that demand shelf space and loyalty.

The Library Connection

Many shelfies inadvertently capture another truth about modern reading life: the integration of library books into personal collections. Some readers intermingle borrowed volumes with purchased ones, creating temporary arrangements that shift weekly. Others maintain separate, highly visible locations for library loans – for me, just outside my office door – allowing them to stay top of mind, handy to grab coming or going, so as to always have one or more in process.

These arrangements tell stories of resourcefulness, of readers who understand that ownership and engagement aren’t synonymous, who build relationships with their local libraries and librarians. The weekly library pilgrimage has become ritual for many readers like me, a sacred appointment appearing in calendars alongside work meetings and social obligations. These visits yield not just books but the pleasure of discovery, the satisfaction of completing one reading mission while embarking on another.

The Perfect Imperfect Shelfie

On National Shelfie Day, resist the urge to tidy or curate excessively. The best shelfies capture reading life as it actually exists, complete with precarious stacks, mixed genres, and honest documentation of intellectual ambitions. 

When thousands of readers share photographs of their own literary accumulations, shame dissolves. We see ourselves reflected in others’ stacks and towers, recognizing that our reading ambitions outpacing our reading time is universal rather than personal failure. There’s genuine pleasure in acquiring books that exists independently from reading them. Each new addition represents possibility and promise, another potential adventure or insight waiting just beyond the current read.

These honest captures celebrate not just the books we’ve read but those we aspire to read, not just our literary accomplishments but our ongoing ambitions. They document the beautiful tension between finite time and infinite curiosity, between the books we’ve finished and the worlds still waiting to be explored.

Your National Shelfie Day Challenge

Here’s your mission for today, should you choose to accept it:

First, locate all your book piles. Yes, all of them. The one on your nightstand, the stack hiding behind your bedroom door, those books camouflaged among decorative pillows on your couch, and the collection you’ve strategically positioned to block that wall stain you keep meaning to paint over. 

Next, photograph your book piles exactly as they exist in their natural habitat. Post with pride, and tag it so fellow bibliophiles can find you. Bonus points if you can count how many books are in your pile without having to actually count them twice. Double bonus points if you admit in your caption which books have been sitting unread the longest.

Capture your collections – whatever they may be. Share your collections, the cookbooks, the mystery series, the professional development texts, the hobby guides, the literary fiction, the guilty pleasures. Show us the collections that tell your story, that map your curiosities, that reveal the subjects you can’t stop exploring from multiple angles.

This is your intervention and your celebration rolled into one. I’m not here to shame anyone’s book pile. I’m here to document it, share it, and collectively acknowledge that we’re all in this beautiful, ridiculous predicament together – surrounded by more books than we can read in several lifetimes, yet somehow always eyeing that next title, planning that next library visit, making room for just one more.

Because ultimately, our shelfies don’t just show what we read. They show who we are, who we’ve been, and who we hope to become. They’re visual autobiographies written in spines and dust jackets, honest portraits of lives lived in pursuit of knowledge, beauty, adventure, and understanding.

So point your camera. Capture your chaos. Share your stories.

Your move, reader.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Capturing the TBR: #LibraryShelfieDay and Our Towers of Literary Promise

Posted on by

In the digital age where everything from breakfast to sunsets demands photographic documentation, there exists one social media trend that book lovers have embraced with particular enthusiasm: the shelfie. This portmanteau of “shelf” and “selfie” has spawned its own unofficial holiday, #LibraryShelfieDay, celebrated each year as readers worldwide turn their cameras toward their bookshelves to share their literary landscapes with fellow bibliophiles.

Yet among the carefully curated collections and color-coordinated spines, one element appears in nearly every true reader’s shelfie with endearing inevitability: the TBR pile. For normal readers, TBR stands for To Be Read. However, when it comes to books, I am anything but normal! Books don’t come into my house unless they will be read – consequently, TBR means To Be Read and Re-Read for me!

Those precarious towers of books, stacked horizontally atop neatly shelved volumes or claiming entire sections of furniture, tell stories as compelling as any novel they contain.

The Honest Bookshelf

While some readers meticulously arrange their shelfies to present only finished reads or aesthetically pleasing arrangements, the most authentic captures embrace the chaos. These are the photographs that show books piled on nightstands, stacked beside reading chairs, or occupying that awkward space between the bookshelf and the wall. They reveal coffee-stained bookmarks protruding from half-finished volumes and library books teetering atop personal purchases in a delicate balance that defies both physics and organization.

These unvarnished shelfies resonate because they reflect reality. Your book pile – TBR or recently completed – isn’t a failure of reading discipline but rather evidence of an active, engaged literary life. Each book waiting to be read or re-read represents curiosity sparked, a recommendation followed, or an impulse honored. Together, they form a physical manifestation of intellectual ambition, visible proof that our reading appetite consistently outpaces our available time.

Geography of Literary Intention

My TBR arrangement tells its own story. Some maintain a single, ever-growing stack, adding new acquisitions to the top while theoretically working from the bottom up. Others scatter smaller collections throughout my office and home, creating thematic clusters or separating library loans from personal purchases. I typically organize by subject/theme, and then priority, placing must-reads within arm’s reach of my favorite reading spots. Occasionally, I embrace complete spontaneity, letting mood and moment determine my next selection.

The Japanese concept of tsundoku describes the act of acquiring books and letting them accumulate unread – what? While sometimes wielded as gentle accusation, most dedicated readers recognize themselves in this practice without shame. My TBR pile serves practical purposes beyond mere hoarding. It functions as insurance against the unthinkable scenario of having nothing new to read or something that demands a re-read, offers variety when reading moods shift unpredictably, and stands as tangible evidence of my commitment to future learning and growth.

Synoptical Stacks and Thematic Towers

Among the most intriguing book piles captured in #LibraryShelfieDay posts are those built around specific subjects or themes. These collections reveal readers pursuing deeper understanding through multiple perspectives. One might spot a tower of thought on home hospitality, three biographies of the same historical figure lined up together, or a cluster of novels from a particular literary movement awaiting comparative analysis. Science enthusiasts might display competing theories side by side, while philosophy readers gather texts in dialogue with one another.

Glancing at the images accompanying this article should provide the reader a clue into my reading habits and collections. I’m a HUGE synoptical reader – gathering books by various authors around similar subjects, for comparison and expansion of the knowledge of the subject.

This approach becomes incredibly powerful because it reveals how ideas evolve over time, exposes the blind spots that individual authors might miss, and often leads to insights that none of the original writers could have reached alone. In our current world of endless information streams, synoptical reading is less about consuming more content and more about becoming a thoughtful curator who can weave together the best thinking on complex topics into something genuinely illuminating.

These synoptical reading projects transform the humble book pile from random accumulation into curated symposium. They demonstrate reading as an active pursuit of knowledge rather than passive entertainment. Each book becomes part of a larger conversation, with the reader serving as moderator between different voices and viewpoints. The resulting shelfies document not just books owned but intellectual journeys planned.

The Library Connection

Many shelfies inadvertently capture another truth about modern reading life: the integration of library books into personal collections. Borrowed volumes intermingle with purchased ones, creating temporary arrangements that shift weekly. These mixed stacks tell stories of resourcefulness, of readers who understand that ownership and engagement aren’t synonymous, who build relationships with their local libraries and librarians. I don’t intermingle my weekly library “borrows” – they maintain a very visible location just outside my office door. This allows me to keep them top of mind and handy to grab coming or going, so as to always have one or more handy. Here’s the current crop, with a few more coming later today on my weekly visit to the library.

The weekly library pilgrimage has become ritual for many readers, a sacred appointment appearing in calendars alongside work meetings and social obligations. These visits yield not just books but the pleasure of discovery, the satisfaction of completing one reading mission while embarking on another. The resulting TBR piles blend personal investment with communal resources, private reading goals with public literary treasures.

Finding Joy in the Accumulation

Perhaps the most valuable insight shared through #NationalShelfieDay celebrations is the collective permission to embrace our book piles without guilt. When thousands of readers share photographs of their own literary accumulations, the shame dissolves. We see ourselves reflected in others’ stacks and towers, recognizing that our reading ambitions outpacing our reading time is universal rather than personal failure.

There’s genuine pleasure in acquiring books that exists independently from reading them. Each new addition to the book pile represents possibility and promise, another potential adventure or insight waiting just beyond the current read. These books don’t reproach us with their unread status; instead, they offer comfort through their mere presence, assurance that intellectual nourishment stands ready whenever we need it.

The Perfect Imperfect Shelfie

As #LibraryShelfieDay approaches next week, resist the urge to tidy or curate excessively. The best shelfies capture reading life as it actually exists, complete with precarious stacks, mixed genres, and that one book that’s been sitting unread for three years but might be perfect for next month. Include the library books with their due date slips visible, the impulse purchases still sporting bookstore bags, the gifts from well-meaning relatives who perhaps missed the mark on genre preferences.

These honest captures celebrate not just the books we’ve read but those we aspire to read, not just our literary accomplishments but our ongoing ambitions. They document the beautiful tension between finite time and infinite curiosity, between the books we’ve finished and the worlds still waiting to be explored.

So when #LibraryShelfieDay arrives next week, point your camera toward those towers of possibility. Capture your book pile in all its chaotic glory. Share it proudly, knowing that somewhere, countless other readers are doing the same, each of us celebrating not just our love of reading, but our optimistic, enduring belief that somehow, someday, we’ll get to them all.

The Library Shelfie Day Challenge

Here’s your mission for the coming week, should you choose to accept it: 

First, locate all your book piles. Yes, all of them. The one on your nightstand, the stack hiding behind your bedroom door, those books camouflaged among the decorative pillows on your couch, and the collection you’ve strategically positioned to block that wall stain you keep meaning to paint over. Resist the urge to organize them into something Instagram-worthy. Do not alphabetize. Do not arrange by color. Do not hide the romance novel with the embarrassing cover or the self-help book you bought during that 3 a.m. existential crisis. 

On #LibraryShelfieDay coming next Wednesday 1/28, photograph your book pile(s) exactly as they exist in their natural habitat, post it with pride, and tag it so fellow bibliophiles can find you. Bonus points if you can count how many books are in your pile without having to actually count them twice. Double bonus points if you admit in your caption which books have been sitting unread the longest. This is your intervention and your celebration rolled into one. We’re not here to shame anyone’s book pile. We’re here to document it, share it, and collectively acknowledge that we’re all in this beautiful, ridiculous predicament together. 

I’ll be expanding my #Shelfies from those you see here – will you join me?

Your move, reader.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

The Pages That Shaped Us: A National Book Lover’s Day Celebration

Posted on by

August 9th holds two profound meanings for me: it’s my father’s birthday, and it’s National Book Lover’s Day. The connection between these dates tells a story about legacy, love, and the transformative power of the written word. Each year as this day approaches I reflect on the power of reading and how my father instilled it in me.

When Words Become Memory

The last time I saw my father truly himself was during Christmas 2011. By then, several strokes had stolen his ability to read – the very thing that had defined so much of who he was. But as I wandered through our family home that quiet holiday evening, his books still lined every shelf, silent witnesses to decades of curiosity and growth.

I pulled volume after volume from their resting places, each one triggering a cascade of memories. Here was the history book that sparked our dinner conversation about World War II. There, the biography that led to his stories about perseverance. Opening each cover was like stepping into a time machine, hearing his voice again through the pages he had loved.

Two months later, on February 25, 2012, the legacy of those books became his lasting gift to me.

The Making of a Reader

My father embodied what author Jessica Hooten Wilson beautifully captures in her observation: “The manual labor of the past that allowed a human being to work in an embodied way, and to contemplate in heart and mind while working with one’s hands, encouraged the desire for reading after the physical exertions were completed.”

After twelve-hour days at his gas station, six days a week, my dad would settle into his chair with a book. Not occasionally – almost every single night. He understood something profound: that reading wasn’t just entertainment, it was essential nourishment for the soul.

This passion became the cornerstone of our family culture. As young children, every two weeks my mother would drive my brother and me to the library in the next town over. We’d return with armloads of books – I’d devour mine within days, then spend the remaining time impatiently waiting for our next literary pilgrimage.

That rhythm became my heartbeat. Elementary school, high school, college, graduate studies, decades into my professional life, and now accelerated in retirement – the weekly library visit remains sacred. Three or four books returned, three or four new adventures collected.

The Art of Deep Reading

National Book Lover’s Day isn’t just about celebrating our love of books – it’s about honoring the profound ways reading shapes us. I’ve discovered that the deepest rewards come not from reading widely, but from reading deeply.

Following Mortimer Adler’s wisdom in How to Read a Book, I practice what he calls synoptical reading – diving deep into subjects by consuming multiple perspectives on the same topic. It’s like being a detective, gathering clues from various sources to solve the mystery of understanding.

For over three decades, I’ve been conducting a synoptical investigation into Walt Disney and his revolutionary approach to creating experiences. My Disney library has grown to over 500 books, spanning from 1939 to last week’s latest releases. These aren’t just books about cartoons and theme parks – they’re masterclasses in vision, leadership, innovation, and human connection.

But Disney isn’t my only reading obsession. I maintain several “reading threads” – ongoing explorations of topics that fascinate me. Current deep dives include:

  • Charting the evolution of hospitality in American culture
  • What it means to be a “modern elder” in today’s world
  • Biblical leadership principles of “shepherding” for contemporary challenges
  • Discovering the “revolutionary” importance of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County in the 1770s

Synoptical reading often plays an important role in the Wednesday Weekly Reader, so I’m devoting an article next week – stay tuned!

Reading as Revolutionary Act

In our age of infinite scrolling and bite-sized content, choosing to read a book is almost rebellious. It’s a declaration that depth matters more than speed, that contemplation trumps consumption.

Prior to retirement, most evenings I would continue my father’s tradition – settling in with a book after the day’s work is done. As I continue to adjust to my new lifestyle, one thing is a constant – reading has expanded! I may be researching topics like those above, or working on my other major website projects – concepts of First Place Hospitality and the Modern Elder. Other times, it’s pure pleasure reading, the kind that makes you forget time.

Thomas Edison understood this hunger for knowledge and put it this way: “I didn’t read a few books, I read the library.” That’s the spirit we need to recapture – not just reading for information, but reading for transformation.

Your Book Lover’s Day Invitation

This August 9th, how will you honor the books that have shaped you? Here are some meaningful ways to celebrate:

Create New Traditions:

  • Start a synoptical reading project on a topic that fascinates you
  • Host a book swap with friends who share your interests
  • Write letters to authors whose work has impacted you
  • Create a reading nook that invites daily literary escapes

Share the Love:

  • Gift a meaningful book to someone who needs its message
  • Volunteer with literacy programs in your community
  • Share your favorite quotes using #NationalBookLoversDay
  • Mentor someone just beginning their reading journey

Go Deeper:

  • Revisit a childhood favorite with adult eyes
  • Finally tackle that classic you’ve been avoiding
  • Join or start a book club focused on challenging reads
  • Practice the four levels of reading Adler describes

The Legacy Lives On

Every August 9th, I’m reminded that the greatest gift my father gave me wasn’t his collection of books – it was his modeling of what it means to be a lifelong learner. He showed me that reading isn’t just about acquiring knowledge; it’s about remaining curious, staying humble, and never stopping our growth.

In a world that often feels chaotic and overwhelming, books offer something irreplaceable: the opportunity to slow down, think deeply, and connect with the vast tapestry of human experience. They remind us that we’re part of something larger than ourselves, contributors to an ongoing conversation that spans generations.

So today, pick up a book. Not just any book, but one that challenges you, changes you, or simply brings you joy. Turn the page with intention, knowing that somewhere, a future reader will be grateful for the path you’re helping to preserve.

After all, we’re not just book lovers – we’re the keepers of humanity’s greatest conversation.

What book will you turn to today? What conversation will you join? The pages are waiting.

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

A Charlotte Birthday Adventure: Burgers & Books!

Posted on by

For the true book lover, every day is an opportunity to turn a new page, but a birthday offers the perfect excuse for a grand adventure rooted in the love of reading and good food. 

Welcome to the 4th Annual Bob’s Burgers and Books Birthday Bash!

Just as 27gen blog posts delve into The Joy of Reading: Reflecting on Another Year Between the Pages and Cultivating Continuous Learning Through Reading, a birthday celebration can be a tangible expression of that passion, combined with another universal delight: the hamburger.

The connection between intellectual curiosity and culinary exploration runs deeper than one might think. Articles like My Quest for the Perfect Hamburger: A Literary, Culinary, and Arbitrary Journey in Pursuit of America’s Iconic Delight highlight the intentionality behind savoring a meal, much like Reading Between the Lines encourages a deeper understanding of texts. 

Therefore, a birthday itinerary for a Charlotte book and burger enthusiast seamlessly weaves these two passions together, creating a day of discovery for both the mind and the palate.

The day begins with a literary pilgrimage to some of Charlotte’s finest used bookstores. First, Julia’s Cafe & Books provides a more relaxed atmosphere, blending the aroma of coffee with the scent of old paper. This airy cafe combined with a used bookshop offers a comfortable and social environment, allowing for a coffee or a light snack as you browse their curated collection. The added benefit of supporting Habitat for Humanity with every purchase makes your literary finds contribute to a good cause. Here, the focus is on quality used books, and the comfortable seating invites you to settle in and perhaps even begin reading your new acquisition. 

Next, Book Buyers offers the classic, sprawling used bookstore experience, where the thrill of the hunt for a hidden gem mirrors the anticipation of a good story. With its vast selection and cozy, slightly labyrinthine feel, it’s a place where you can easily get lost in the stacks for an hour or two, unearthing forgotten treasures or beloved classics. The presence of resident cats only adds to its charm, creating an atmosphere that invites leisurely browsing and serendipitous finds.

Both Book Buyers and Julia’s offer a tangible connection to Beyond the Page: C.S. Lewis on the Transformative Power of Reading and the simple joy of discovery.

Mid-day, the adventure shifts to the equally cherished pursuit of the perfect burger. Charlotte boasts several great burger joints, but two distinct establishments embody different facets of Burger Magic: Exploring the Universal Fascination Behind America’s Favorite Dish. 

Brook’s Sandwich House is an iconic, old-school, cash-only institution, serving up a classic, unpretentious burger with a side of local history. Established in 1973, it’s a walk-up window joint with ample outdoor picnic tables. Expect no-frills, fast service, and a truly local experience. Their cheeseburger with chili and crispy fried bologna are legendary, representing a testament to tradition, much like Tracing the Origins and Early Development of the Hamburger in America. The experience at Brook’s is about authentic, satisfying flavor, often enjoyed in a bustling, no-nonsense environment. With a 10 a.m. opening time, I can treat it more like a burger brunch!

In contrast, Ace No. 3 offers a more contemporary and polished take on the burger. With a focus on quality ingredients and perfected techniques, it represents the evolution of Burgerology: The Art and Science of the Perfect Patty. The atmosphere is more modern and trendy, and the menu often features creative toppings and a selection of craft beers. Their signature “THE ACE” burger, with two 1/4 lb. chuck blend patties, American cheese, grilled onions, house pickles, and Comeback sauce, provides a more gourmet experience. 

Comparing the simple, chili-laden charm of Brook’s to the elevated, smash-burger experience of Ace No. 3 provides a delicious quest for culinary perfection, mirroring the varied approaches to reading discussed in posts like Reading Between the Ears: Synoptical Reading, Leadership, and the Magic of Disney.

Since Anita has a wonderful surprise planned for dinner at the end of the day, I had to make a choice of just one – and Brook’s Sandwich House wins the day. 

The afternoon brings another opportunity for literary immersion at That’s Novel Books, conveniently located within the vibrant Camp North End complex. This used bookstore offers a curated selection of genres and a focus on community, creativity, and art. It’s connected to Hygge Coworking, giving it a cool, collaborative feel. Here, you might find more contemporary titles, local authors, and unique gifts. The Camp North End setting also allows for exploring other shops, art installations, and perhaps even grabbing a celebratory drink or treat if time allows, extending the birthday festivities.

Just as 27gen explores various facets of reading, from Turn the Page: Exploring National Book Lover’s Day to Mastering Anything: A Strategic Guide to Continuous Learning Through Reading, this birthday adventure celebrates the multifaceted joy of being a book lover. It’s a day to indulge in the intellectual nourishment of a good book and the satisfying pleasure of a great burger, proving that Yes, Leaders are Readers! are burger enthusiasts too. 

My birthday adventure will end with a relaxed and very special dinner with Anita in the evening, perhaps enjoying newly acquired books or discussing my burger from the day, cementing the memories of a perfectly tailored birthday in Charlotte.

Beyond the Page: C.S. Lewis on the Transformative Power of Reading

Posted on by

A friend once asked me to define a true reader. Of course, I answered with a quote from a book:

I went on to share the source of the book, The Reading Life, by C.S. Lewis, and I want to share it here.

The revered teacher and bestselling author reflects on the power, importance, and joy of a life dedicated to reading books in this delightful collection drawn from his wide body of writings.

More than fifty years after his death, intellectual and teacher C. S. Lewis continues to speak to readers, thanks not only to his intellectual insights on Christianity but also his wondrous creative works and deep reflections on the literature that influenced his life. Beloved for his instructive novels including The Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce, and The Chronicles of Narnia as well as his philosophical books that explored theology and Christian life, Lewis was a life-long writer and book lover.

Cultivated from his many essays, articles, and letters, as well as his classic works, The Reading Life provides guidance and reflections on the love and enjoyment of books. Engaging and enlightening, this well-rounded collection includes Lewis’ reflections on science fiction, why children’s literature is for readers of all ages, and why we should read two old books for every new one.

A window into the thoughts of one of the greatest public intellectuals of our time, this collection reveals not only why Lewis loved the written word, but what it means to learn through literature from one of our wisest and most enduring teachers.

C.S. Lewis’ The Reading Life is a carefully curated collection of his thoughts, essays, and correspondence about the art and joy of reading. Compiled posthumously from various sources, including letters, lectures, and previously published works, this volume offers readers a glimpse into the literary mind of one of the 20th century’s most influential Christian thinkers and writers.

The collection opens by establishing Lewis’s deeply personal relationship with books from childhood. Far from presenting reading as merely educational, Lewis reveals it as transformative and essential to his intellectual and spiritual formation. He recounts being “baptized” into the world of Norse mythology as a child, describing the profound way certain texts awakened his imagination and shaped his worldview.

Lewis distinguishes between different types of reading experiences throughout the collection. He contrasts what he calls “literary” reading – where one engages with a text for its inherent aesthetic qualities and transformative potential – with reading merely for information or distraction. Lewis argues passionately that the former holds greater value, allowing books to change us rather than merely entertaining or informing us.

One of the collection’s strengths is Lewis’s discussion of how to approach literature. He advocates for reading with receptivity and openness, suggesting that truly experiencing a book requires temporarily setting aside our own prejudices and assumptions. Lewis emphasizes that good reading involves surrender – allowing ourselves to be led by the author rather than imposing our interpretations from the outset.

Lewis also explores the relationship between reading and moral development. While he rejects the simplistic notion that reading “good” books automatically makes one virtuous, he acknowledges literature’s capacity to expand our moral imagination and help us understand perspectives beyond our own limited experience. His nuanced view recognizes literature’s power without overstating its moral effects.

The collection addresses practical aspects of reading as well. Lewis offers insights on rereading, suggesting that revisiting books is essential to truly understanding them. He discusses the value of reading older works, arguing that they provide necessary perspective to counter the cultural blindness of our own era. Lewis also tackles the sometimes intimidating prospect of reading “the classics,” providing encouraging advice for approaching difficult texts.

What makes The Reading Life particularly compelling is Lewis’s voice – erudite but accessible, passionate but reasoned. His writing exudes both intellectual rigor and childlike wonder. Whether discussing medieval literature or children’s stories, Lewis conveys the same infectious enthusiasm for the written word.

The collection’s most profound sections explore reading as a spiritual practice. Lewis suggests that literature can prepare us for divine encounters by awakening longing and helping us recognize beauty. While never suggesting that books replace religious experience, he positions them as potential conduits for transcendence.

Lewis’ Christian worldview and his literary preferences tend toward the classical and medieval. As such, some may find his perspectives on modern literature limited by his own historical context and personal taste. Additionally, the collection’s posthumous assembly means some thematic repetition occurs across selections.

The Reading Life is ultimately a celebration of literature’s capacity to expand our consciousness. Lewis portrays reading not as escapism but as a means of encountering reality more fully. Through books, he suggests, we can transcend the limitations of our individual perspective and experience the world through different eyes.

For those who already appreciate Lewis’s work, this collection provides valuable insights into the literary influences that shaped his thought. For newcomers, it offers an accessible introduction to Lewis’s brilliant mind and his approach to literature. For all readers, it serves as a compelling reminder of why we read and how books can transform our lives.

In an age of digital distraction and superficial content consumption, Lewis’s reflections on deep, attentive reading feel especially relevant. The Reading Life invites us to reconsider our relationship with books and challenges us to read not merely for information or entertainment but for transformation. It reminds us that the true value of reading lies not in the quantity of books we consume but in how deeply we allow them to shape us.

We want to see with other eyes, to imagine with other imaginations, to feel with other hearts, as well as with our own.

C.S. Lewis

Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.

During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based current events.

It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.

Celebrating National Library Week: Where Stories Come Alive

Posted on by


National Library Week is more than just a calendar event—it’s a vibrant celebration of knowledge, community, and the transformative power of reading. Each year, this special week reminds us of the vital role libraries play in our lives, offering far more than just rows of books on shelves. They are sanctuaries of discovery, learning, and connection that continue to evolve in our digital age.

That’s the North County Regional branch of the Charlotte Mecklenburg library.

It’s also my weekly destination for dropping off and picking up books I’ve placed on hold throughout the week.

Visiting the local library is a long-standing tradition with me. As a small boy, I remember with fondness the bi-monthly visits to the branch library in the next county. We were limited to checking out 20 books at a time, and it was a rare visit when I didn’t meet that quota.

As soon as the car pulled in the driveway, I would race into our house and begin reading through my treasure trove of books.

In my early years, I would often have them all read in a matter of days. As I got older and the books got longer, it might take the whole two-week period to read them.

Then there’s school libraries, from middle school to high school to college to graduate school. More treasures of a deeper and longer-lasting sort.

When our children came along, I introduced them to the joy of reading and the local library. In each city we’ve lived in, one of the very first visits we made after moving was to stop by the library and pick up a library card. Since our four children were born four years apart, that’s a long time of library visits!

I’m proud to say that as they have grown up, and with children of their own, reading and visiting the library is still important in their lives. And of course, any grandchild visiting Nina and GrandBob is going to have a selection of the latest age-appropriate books from our library waiting!

The Heart of Our Communities

Libraries are perhaps the most democratic institutions we have. They welcome everyone, regardless of age, background, or economic status. From a child discovering their first picture book to a student researching a complex topic, from a job seeker using free computer resources to a retiree attending a community workshop, libraries serve as inclusive spaces that bridge gaps and open doors to opportunity.

In an era of increasing digital isolation, libraries stand as physical spaces that bring people together. They are community centers where knowledge is shared, ideas are exchanged, and connections are made. Free classes, reading groups, cultural events, and workshops transform libraries from quiet repositories of books into dynamic, interactive spaces of learning and engagement.

A World of Endless Exploration

Imagine walking into a library and being surrounded by millions of stories waiting to be discovered. Each book is a portal to another world, another perspective, another life experience. Whether you’re interested in traversing distant galaxies through science fiction, understanding historical events through meticulously researched non-fiction, or exploring the depths of human emotion through poetry, libraries offer an infinite landscape of exploration.

Modern libraries have expanded far beyond traditional book lending. Many now offer:

  • Digital resources and e-book collections
  • Free Wi-Fi and computer access
  • Language learning programs
  • Technology workshops
  • Children’s storytelling sessions
  • Local history archives
  • Career development resources

How to Celebrate National Library Week

Celebrating National Library Week doesn’t require grand gestures – just curiosity and an open mind. Here are some wonderful ways to participate:

  • Get a Library Card: If you don’t already have one, visit your local library and sign up. It’s typically free and opens up a world of resources. Many libraries now offer digital cards that provide instant access to online materials.
  • Attend a Library Event: Check your local library’s calendar. Most libraries host special events during National Library Week, such as author talks, book clubs, writing workshops, or family-friendly activities.
  • Explore a New Genre: Challenge yourself to read something completely different from your usual preferences. Ask a librarian for recommendations – they’re experts at matching readers with perfect books.
  • Support Your Library: Consider donating books, volunteering, or making a financial contribution. Libraries often rely on community support to maintain and expand their services.

A Personal Invitation

This National Library Week, I invite you to rediscover the magic of your local library. Take a moment to step inside, breathe in the quiet atmosphere of possibility, and remember that within these walls, every book is a journey waiting to begin, every shelf a landscape of potential waiting to be explored.

My visits to my local library – from 60 years ago as a young reader to this week’s latest explorations – continue to impact my life every day.

Libraries are more than buildings – they are guardians of human knowledge, dreamers of collective imagination, and bridges to understanding. They remind us that in a world of constant change, the love of learning and the power of stories remain timeless.

Make time this week to “check out” your local library!

Closing the Circle: A Grateful Goodbye and a New Beginning

Posted on by

We live in a world defined by exits. Visual reminders of departure surround us daily, guiding our movements, anticipating our turns, and flashing directions.

From following exit arrows in parking garages to noting emergency exits in darkened theaters, from flight attendants’ safety briefings to kindergartners learning their first important words – “exits” represent efficiency, safety, order, and protection. They structure our physical environment and shape our daily routines, whether we’re navigating unfamiliar highways or traveling well-worn paths in our communities with barely a conscious thought.

The language and metaphors of exit permeate our lives as well. We apply for exit visas before international travel, directors choreograph theatrical exits, poker players “fold” to exit a game on their own terms, and even our news media and crime shows are saturated with references to “exit wounds.” These departures are woven into the fabric of our existence – marking our physical landscapes, embedding our language, shaping our national narratives, and influencing our personal development. Yet despite their ubiquity, exits often remain invisible, overshadowed by our cultural fascination with beginnings, launches, and entries.

Perhaps in our celebration of new starts, we’ve rendered the equally important act of leaving somehow less noble by comparison.

Today, I am invoking a deeply personal ritual of goodbye to my job with the Auxano team.

Saying goodbye is never easy, especially after spending over 12 years as part of the incredible Auxano team. But as I consider a new chapter, I want to take a moment to reflect, appreciate, and look ahead with optimism.

For me, this isn’t just an exit – it’s the closing of a circle, a completion of a season filled with dedication, growth, and countless meaningful experiences. The phrase “closing the circle” often symbolizes bringing something to completion, ensuring that what was started is finished well. That’s exactly how I feel about my time on the Auxano team.

My Journey with Books and Auxano

My Auxano journey began in 2008 with books – specifically, one book and a custom bookcase holding 40 or so leadership books, designed to fit in the back of a Jeep Liberty. That initial encounter led to joining the team full-time in 2012.

My Auxano journey is ending with books – specifically, a book curated by me for each member of the current Auxano team – from my Disney library.

Books have always been a part of my life, going all the way back to my childhood. To a lesser extent, Disney has been ever-present as well. It seemed only natural to put those two together a long time ago, and I haven’t stopped yet!

As I wrapped up my time with the Auxano team earlier this week at our annual Resync, I wanted to celebrate each team member in a special way: From my 500+ book Disney library, I chose a specific book for each member of the team that conveyed a message of how their gifts and encouragement have been demonstrated to me. It is my hope they enjoy reading through the book, and as they do, they will know that I remember our times together on the team with much fondness and appreciation for their friendship.

A Legacy of Dedication

Over the past 12+years, I have had the privilege of working alongside some of the most talented, knowledgeable, and compassionate people I’ve ever met. Whether it was managing key projects, brainstorming fresh ideas, or simply being a reliable presence, I have truly cherished the opportunity to contribute and grow alongside this team.

From my early days navigating the new challenges of an almost-vertical learning curve to the most recent initiatives that pushed us forward, I have learned so much. The resilience, creativity, and shared commitment to our mission have made this journey incredibly rewarding. I am proud of what we have accomplished together, and I know that the impact of our work will continue long after I’ve moved on.

Not an Ending, But a New Beginning

While my job may be coming to an end, the relationships, lessons, and experiences of the Auxano team will stay with me forever. This job has never just been about tasks and deliverables – it has been about the people who make it all happen, and the clients we served.

Now, I am looking ahead to a new season, one filled with possibilities. Whether it’s exploring new career opportunities, diving into passion projects, or simply taking a break, I carry with me the confidence that the same qualities that served me well at Auxano and previous jobs will continue to guide me forward. Change can be daunting, but it is also exhilarating – an open door to new adventures and unforeseen opportunities.

A Heartfelt Thank You

As I close this circle with my Auxano brothers and sisters, I do so with immense gratitude. Thank you to each and every one on the Auxano team for your support, encouragement, and friendship. You have shaped my journey in ways that I will never forget. My work here has mattered, but more importantly, you have mattered to me.

While I will not be logging on to the virtual office space that Auxano thrives in every day, know that I will always carry the memories and lessons from this team with me. I celebrate all that we have accomplished together, and I look forward with excitement to what’s ahead for the team.

So here’s to closing the circle – not as a farewell, but as the completion of a journey well traveled and the beginning of a future full of promise. I can’t wait to see what’s next!

May God continue to richly bless each of you in the days ahead!

The Joy of Reading: Reflecting on Another Year Between the Pages

Posted on by

Normally during the last week of the year, maybe sliding into the first few days of the new year, a post appears on 27gen related to reading and books.

Sometimes it’s about reading in general; others it’s about specific books that I’ve read during the past year.

That’s “normally” – the last few weeks have been anything but normal!

You can read more about it here (with a follow-up on 1/22), but the bottom line is that the last three weeks have been pretty much a blur, and a post in development since mid-December is just now ready for publication.

We have closed the book on 2024, and we are several weeks deep into 2025.

I find myself, like many book lovers, taking stock of the stories that have shaped my year. As someone who devours 2-3 books weekly, my life is measured not just in days and months, but in the volumes that have kept me company through seasons of change.

“Reading is a passport to countless adventures,” wrote Mary Pope Osborne, and indeed, each book opens a portal to new worlds, fresh perspectives, and unexpected revelations. This past year, through the pages of countless books, I’ve walked the bustling streets of distant cities, unraveled mysteries in moonlit manor houses, and contemplated the deepest questions of human existence – all from the comfort of my favorite reading chair.

Toni Morrison once said, “Books were my pass to personal freedom.” In a world that often feels increasingly fragmented and fast-paced, reading remains our sovereign territory, a space where we can pause, reflect, and truly be present. It’s a form of meditation, really – a way to quiet the endless notifications and urgent demands of modern life.

Looking back at 2024, I’m struck by how the books I’ve read (acquired 117, borrowed 174 from the library) have served as faithful companions through both ordinary days and extraordinary moments. They’ve been there during early morning tea rituals, afternoon coffee shop visits, late-night contemplations, and those precious stolen moments between responsibilities. As Neil Gaiman beautifully put it, “A book is a dream that you hold in your hand.” These dreams have sustained us, challenged us, and helped us make sense of an ever-changing world.

A special part of the AdamsFamilyExperience at Christmas (when all of our kids and grandkids were with us for 5+ days) was seeing parents and kids alike sprawled over a chair or on the floor, reading a book. That sight warmed my heart!

But reading is more than just escape or entertainment. Research consistently shows that regular reading improves empathy, reduces stress, enhances cognitive function, and even helps stave off cognitive decline as we age. In essence, every time we open a book, we’re investing in our mental and emotional wellbeing. As Maya Angelou wisely observed, “Any book that helps a child to form a habit of reading, to make reading one of his deep and continuing needs, is good for him.” The same holds true for adults.

As we look ahead to 2025, there’s something deeply comforting about the towering stack of books waiting to be read – the “to-be-read” pile that seems to grow taller despite our best efforts to keep pace. Each unread book represents a promise of discovery, a future adventure waiting to unfold. Italo Calvino captured this anticipation perfectly: “The more you read, the more you realize you haven’t read. The more you know, the more you realize you don’t know.”

In this coming year, I encourage fellow readers to embrace both the familiar and the unknown. Perhaps it’s time to venture beyond our comfort zones – to pick up genres we normally bypass, to seek out voices we haven’t heard before, to challenge our preconceptions through literature that pushes us to think differently. As Frederick Douglass reminded us, “Once you learn to read, you will be forever free.”

Reading isn’t just a solitary pursuit, either. Book clubs, online reading communities, and literary social media have created vibrant spaces where readers can connect, debate, and share their love of literature. These connections remind us that while reading itself may be solitary, the joy of books is meant to be shared. As C.S. Lewis noted, “We read to know we are not alone.”

If you prepare a reading resolution for 2025, remember that there’s no “right” way to be a reader. Whether you prefer physical books, e-readers, or audiobooks; whether you read one book a month or one a day; whether you annotate meticulously or simply let the words wash over you – all approaches are valid. The only requirement is the willingness to open yourself to the transformative power of stories.

So here’s to another year of reading adventures. Here’s to dog-eared pages and highlighted passages, to late nights spent promising ourselves “just one more chapter,” to the books that will make us laugh, cry, think, and grow. As we stand at the beginning of 2025, let’s remember what Susan Sontag said: “Reading sets standards. When we read, we want to read more, better, deeper.”

May your 2025 be filled with wonderful books, quiet reading moments, and the joy of discovering new favorite authors.

When people ask me, “Do you collect books?” I always say, “No, books collect me.”

Nicholas Barker, in At Home with Books