First off, I'd like to apologize for my absence around here. Lots of things percolating behind the scenes, and this new Blogger Beta is causing some headaches. It's not so easy just to pop in for a few seconds and with the busy days, it's hard to find time.

My Favourite Place...can you guess where that might be?

As I walked into our local bookstore, I realized how much it fills me with a deep calmness and enjoyment. It's somewhere I don't often go, simply because I get so enthralled with the pages that surround me.

I don't see books. I see hopes, dreams, frustration, hard work and accomplishment.

Sure, the books catch my eye. But I see the people behind them. I see that lady who upon moving to the US from Vancouver, decided to fulfill her dream and began writing in her walk-in closet. I see that man over there who, as a boy in an boarding school in 1940s Africa always wanted to tell stories.

As I meander through the aisles, I see late nights, writer's blocks, searching for those right words that just won't come. I see the people who help them, researching strange facts just to make sure the story works.

I see first drafts, second drafts, third, fourth and so on. I see hearts and souls poured into pages that ultimately face the worst critic other than themselves...their publisher.

And I see the wait to get it into print, and the indescribable joy of seeing your own name on the cover.

I also see the crestfallen feeling as the realization hits that your book is only one of thousands, and that your voice is only one of a crowd.

That's why my trips to bookstores always end up in the purchase of several discounted books, like forgotten little gems in a massive treasure chest. It's where I have stumbled over my most favourite authors.

That's also why I have one full room devoted to books. 6 ceiling high bookcases, filled to overflowing and not able to part with a single one.