Her home is the burrow of a bibliophile hobbit -- low-ceilinged, close-walled, and brimming over with books.

So I switch to my MacBook and make my rounds: news sites, blogs, tweets. I scroll back to find the conversations that happened without me during the day. When every single piece of media you consume is time-shifted, does that mean it’s actually you that’s time-shifted?

Are there sexual fetishes that involve books? There must be. I try not to imagine how they might work.

I loved The Chronicles of Narnia. I loved The Chronicles of Prydain. Basically, 'Chronicles of' - I was in!

A clerk and a ladder and warm golden light, and then: the right book exactly, at exactly the right time.

All the secrets of the world worth knowing are hiding in plain site.

...I can’t stop squirming. If fidgets were Wikipedia edits, I would have completely revamped the entry on guilt by now, and translated it into five new languages.