You Can Miss A Lot By Sticking

My Daughter Is Seven, And Some Of The Other Second-grade Parents Complain That Their Children Don't Read For Pleasure. When I Visit Their Homes, The Children's Rooms Are Crammed With Expensive Books, But The Parent's Rooms Are Empty. Those Children Do Not See Their Parents Reading, As I Did Every Day Of My Childhood. By Contrast, When I Walk Into An Apartment With Books On The Shelves, Books On The Bedside Tables, Books On The Floor, And Books On The Toilet Tank, Then I Know What I Would See If I Opened The Door That Says 'private--grownups Keep Out': A Child Sprawled On The Bed, Reading.

When I Visit A New Bookstore, I Demand Cleanliness, Computer Monitors, And Rigorous Alphabetization. When I Visit A Secondhand Bookstore, I Prefer Indifferent Housekeeping, Sleeping Cats, And Sufficient Organizational Chaos.

I Have Always Felt That The Action Most Worth Watching Is Not At The Center Of Things But Where Edges Meet. I Like Shorelines, Weather Fronts, International Borders. There Are Interesting Frictions And Incongruities In These Places, And Often, If You Stand At The Point Of Tangency, You Can See Both Sides Better Than If You Were In The Middle Of Either One.

It Is A Truism Of Epistolary Psychology That, For Example, A Christmas Thank-you Note Written On December 26 Can Say Any Old Thing, But If You Wait Until February, You Are Convinced That Nothing Less Than Middlemarch Will Do.

The Action Most Worth Watching Is Not At The Center Of Things, But Where Edges Meet.