I dunno if this is where to post this, but: I kinda wanna share this, just because I've got nothing else to do. Enjoy, if you can, and try not to think of me as too bizarre. Lots of books have been made into movies. Forrest Gump and What’s Eating Gilbert Grape are two that I can think of off the top of my head. Recently, I found out that the film How to Lose Friends and Alienate People was based on a book, a memoir, by Toby Young. So, after reading it, I decided to check and see what other books were made into movies, because I often investigate these kinds of things, though for what reason, I have no clue. The first movie I thought of was the 2006 Richard Linklater film A Scanner Darkly. Don't ask why I thought of it, I just did. Perhaps it was the rotoscoping technique. Anyway, I looked up the movie on the library catalog, and voila! I found A Scanner Darkly, by Philip K. Dick. So, I reserved the book, hoping it was as good, if not better than the movie, which was, in my opinion, brilliantly done. Now that I had something to look for, I started randomly typing in the names of movies that I could remember. First came Jim Carrey's new flic, Yes Man. Turns out that's a memoir too, about a man who decided to say yes to everything. Then, A Clockwork Orange. Bingo, A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess. Suddenly, as I was checking over my reservation list, I thought of something. Perhaps it was seeing the title of A Scanner Darkly that did it. I decided to look up some of Winona Ryder's movies, and see if they were based on books. Don't ask exactly why I decided to do this, I just did. Now, I'm not too familiar with Winona Ryder, but I do know of a few movies she's been in, Beetlejuice and Little Women in particular. As I already knew the former wasn't a book to begin with, and the latter was widely known to be based on the Lousia May Alcott novel, I didn't bother to look either of those up. But I couldn't think of any other movie's she'd starred in, so I kinda gave up. Then, one day, halfway through eating lunch, I remembered the title of that one movie, so long ago (okay, maybe not so long, just about 4 years), I wanted to see, but happened to forget about along the way, somehow. Girl, Interrupted. I typed it in on the library catalog, and just like A Scanner Darkly, I found Girl, Interrupted, by Susanna Kaysen, right at the top of the list. I reserved it, and also went off looking for something that would help me turn my outdated Game Boy Advance into something more exciting, or at least help me trash it properly. Three to five days came pretty quickly, so off to the library I went, and picked up, from the reservation room, a pretty hefty stack of books. They were, at the very least, bulky. I plopped them on the counter, and asked that they be checked out, along with the two CDs I'd reserved. The dude behind the counter just looked at me like that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, but he spread them out, and checked them over. "You've got eleven here, and you're only allowed teh-ehn," he said, turning ten into a two syllable word. I hate when people do that in that manner; it sounds like they're telling me something they think I'm too stupid to know. Except this time, I didn't know. "I do?" "Yeah, nine books, two CDs," he said. So I looked them over. Sure enough, eleven is what I counted as well. I sorted through them for a moment, looking for the last two I'd reserved. I knew how to fix this. Random choice, I suppose. Those last two books happened to be something with the subtitle How to Have Fun While Voiding Your Warranty (it was a game console hacking book), and Girl, Interrupted. The later was that version that came out around the release of the film; the one with a fraction of Winona Ryder's face on it. So I've got a blank boring looking book promising to help me have fun, while also makeing sure that I can't get a Nintendo service center to repair my Game Boy for me, providing it's still under warranty, and a book with Winona Ryder's bizarrely captivating eye staring up at me, both sitting on the counter. I guess it's up to random choice. Two hours later, I was home, examining the books I'd checked out. A Scanner Darkly, the novel, and the graphic novel made up of stills from the movie; The Art of the Matrix and The Art of Speed Racer; Watchmen; Handmade Electronic Music, which I really don't know why I checked out; a lame book on street magic; Alright, Still, by Lily Allen, and Sixteen Stone, by Bush. Then, in the bottom of the bag, looking small and sad in comparison to the other books, was Girl, Interrupted. I guess it was the eye. Later on, I flipped to the title page of Girl, Interrupted, just because I always do that, and I smelled something. Not an unpleasant odor, just... something. I held the book closer to my face and breathed in. It was faint, and slightly sweet. I inhaled again. It was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on where I'd smelled it before. Finally, I realized what it was. Soap. Not Dial, or Softsoap, or anything like that. It was soap you buy in bulk from a warehouse store, like the kind used in grocery stores and fast food joints. Come to think of it, the smell was also vaguely reminiscent of those designer soaps Lazarus and Sears, and places like that sell, at the cosmetics counter. I loved Lazarus, when I was six or seven, because of those soaps. I'd stand there, holding the individually wrapped bars, and smelling each one. I remember closing my eyes, identifying the brand that was handed to me by my older sister, purely by smell alone. Now that I think about it, that smell might not really be soap after all, but rather, soap is the closest thing I can equate it to. It might be some fancy, elegant perfume, and since I've never smelled anything like it, I equate the smell to the closest thing I can, which, in this case, is soap. Though why there'd be any kind of fancy, elegant perfume that smells like soap... why that would happen is beyond me. Heck, it might just be the glue holding the pages in place. It was a familiar, comfortable, comforting smell. I know, I'm bizzare. But just stay with me for a bit longer. Fast forward to approximately one o' clock in the morning. I was freezing in my room, unable to sleep, so I decided to read. I reached into my bag, and pulled out, totally randomly... Girl, Interrupted. This book was going to keep begging for my attention until I read it from cover to cover. I opened it, taking in that odor again. I read the first chapter, which was quite short, and smiled. I could read this without a problem. So I continued reading. That book captures pretty much everything; humor, terror, sadness, confusion... And it does it with such style. I found myself laughing, crying, scratching my head, and realizing that parts of the book were so easy to identify with that it was bizarre.As I read, I slowly fell in love with that book. Not in a bizarre way; I mean I really love that book. It's an amazing story, made even more amazing by the fact that it's true (it too, is a memoir). I resolved to purchase a copy the first chance I got. But yet, the more I thought about this, the idea of purchasing my own copyt, the more I realized that it wouldn't work. It wasn't just Girl, Interrupted that I loved. It was this book, the one I held in my hands, that I loved. The one with the label on the side, reading "616.89 K23g"; the one with the stickers on the back, claiming that it belonged to the Whetstone Brance of the Columbus Metropolitan Library, and the barcode sticker reading "126 776 0997". It was this book, the one that smelled so familiar and comforting, the one with Winona Ryder staring out at you from the cover. The one with the lamination peeling in the lower right hand corner of the front cover. I desperately wanted to keep this book. So there it was, four o' clock in the morning, and I began pondering ways to keep this particular book. Not theivery, because they can track that. I've got it on my library card, and I'll be fined if I keep it. I can't get this book out without their noticing, unless... unless I take off the sticker, once it's been returned. That would entail hanging around until it was time to be re-shelved, and then seeking it out, and peeling the sticker off. But how right would that be? Wouldn't I feel bad, taking this book that I love so much, without any sort of payment? Actually, I don't think I would, but that's beside the point. I began to consider the other options. I can renew the book five times, for a thirty day extension, can't I? I checked this, looking at the slip of paper the librarian had given me in October. Yes, I can. So, why not do that? It makes sense. That way, I've got five months to figure out how to keep this book. That's when it hit me. You know how a lot of people describe an epiphany as hitting you like a ton of bricks? Well, it's nothing like that. I wonder, how much would the library charge me for a paperback book, if I were to say that I lost it? Specifically, a copy of Girl, Interrupted, copyrighted 1999.
Retail price of the book at the time they bought it. Probably 7.99 or so. Also, I am glad I am not the only one that likes the way books smell. Everyone looks at me like I am crazy when I say that.
Hah. That was nicely weird. So many times I had to return books I really liked back to the library just because of the way they smelled. I absolutely can not stand the smell of old books. Only thinking about it makes me feel sick.
What a bizarre yet strangely engaging story. Did you seriously write this? If so you should write fiction stories. You have a great style.
This is kind of like how whenever I buy pre-owned stuff from CEx they always seem to smell of weed or tobacco.
Books smell so amazing a lot of the time, and everyone I know thinks I'm crazy for saying that. Yeah, I wrote it. It's partly fact, but a lot of it's fiction. Thank you, by the way. Heh, I have a jacket that smells like weed, and I can't figure out why, other than that the previous owner smoked weed. Dude, go pick up that book. It's amazing. And thank you. Yes I did. Thanks. Thank you very much. Aw, thanks Marj.
I'm known for having a short attention span, and you totally captivated it, here. And the only time that happens is when I'm reading something interesting. You've got style. The smell of books is addictive. Personally, I love the smell of old books. When I was at bio-camp earlier this summer, we worked with old encyclopaedias... Mmm.
I really like your writing. I'm gonna have to go and buy Girl, Interrupted now haha. Or just take the copy you have! Since you make it sound so intriguing.