Confessions of a Book Foister

Foisted books...

My friend Chaia just returned my (spare) copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett's A Little Princess. She said she LOVED it, that she stayed up into the wee hours finishing it.
I'm glowing with gratification. Now I know someone else who has journeyed to Miss Minchin's cruel school, someone else who has rooted for young Sarah Crewe and rejoiced at her courage and happy ending.

Part of my world is now living in the heart of a friend, and we have an extra bond, an extra bridge between our souls.

Books can be bridges.
Books can be maps of alternate worlds. Anyone who has read the Narnia chronicles shares its mental map with me.
Books can be a shorthand, condensing pages of thought into the mention of a title. I don't know how many times I have said "Alice Through the Looking Glass"! when I want a brief way to express getting what you want by doing the opposite of what should get you there. If you've read the book, you get it.

Book bridges

I am thankful my friends do not cross the street when they see me coming with a book under my arm. They know and tolerate my enthusiasms, probably relieved I don’t sell life insurance or used cars. Show up for dinner at my house, and you're likely to go home with some book we talked about, pressed upon you with great enthusiasm. I do this a lot. For the sake of brevity, I'll limit this post to books I actually buy, every time I see them (I'm also a serial thrift-store shopper) with the sole intent of foisting them on the next person I meet.
Here's a partial list of books I have foisted, and why:


What books do you foist, and why? I'd love to hear.

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