You’re in this really really intense political debate that is either going to wreck your friendship or solidify it. That book in your handbag is a new release, and you’ve been coveting it. (the convos turning to gun control now, and Lordy, you may be in the South but you’ve got some opinions on the matter that don’t exactly go with the status quo) You make that split second decisions to unzip the purse in a very ninja-like fashion the place it in front of your face as both a shield and a way to keep your mouth from the furious opinion-sprouting that it is so prone to doing in situations like these.
You hear the intake of breath and feel the book being snatched out of your hands. You’re safe for now. And so is your friendship. Time for a sandwich. You look longingly at the coveted ARC and hope that the cover doesn’t get bent.
You’re walking through Barnes and Nobel. (Why are you in here, you fool? You know you can’t resist the call of the novels? Is that the New Adult section? YA? Don’t mind if you do.) You’re sadly non-bookish friend is getting dragged along for the ride but too bad for them. They should know not to go out of the mall exit closest to the book store by now.
You walk out with four books. Well, your friend does. You got them as pre-releases and they have got to read them. They know to listen to you because as much as they don’t like reading (gasp-I know) the one’s you tell them to read they usually end up liking.
Do you honestly need a reason? Books are fantastic—pool side or mountain topped.