New Book Smell

       The day was still young when Mia stepped out into the brisk Autumn air. She paused for a moment, breathing in the fall aroma. People were walking in all different directions around her, but she weaved through them with ease as she made her way downtown. It was almost as if she was on autopilot; her mind drifted from her route but her body stayed the course.

In less than ten minutes, she was standing in front of her usual Saturday haunt. This was not some shopping center or bowling alley as one might expect from a 16-year-old girl. No, this was much better.

The comforting bell of the book store door rang as she walked in. Her eyes were immediately met by shelves and shelves of colorful novels. The big windows poured light into the tiny shop as the new book smell filling her nostrils made her feel instantly at home. She inhaled deeply before continuing on her way through the store.

She made a beeline for a shelf at the back of the shop. This shelf was painted orange and housed all the books the store just couldn't seem to get rid of. Mia had learned a long time ago that this shelf went virtually untouched between her visits.

She reached behind an old cookbook and retrieved what she had left there. In her hands was a hardcover book called "When Will I Learn." Mia had begun this book during her last visit and had already read more than half of the 400-page novel. This wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence, especially with a book as good as this one. It was funny, engaging, honest, and impossible to put down.

Books had always astounded Mia. How certain combinations of the same 26 letters printed on dead trees could take her to a whole other world. How she could fall in love with made-up people from fictional places. How, try as she might, she would never be able to read them all.

Clutching the book, she headed to her favorite part of the store. There were bean bag chairs strewn about and bay windows with cushioned seating. There were stacks of books in a kaleidoscope of colors and a pile of headphones next to some CDs. There were even a couple dark corners with fairy lights hanging down that were perfect for listening to music.

Mia plopped down on a green bean bag chair (she referred to this exclusively as a "green bag chair") and cracked open her book.

Within seconds her surroundings disappeared. She wasn't sitting in the book store anymore, but rather watching the lives of Lola, Cassidy, and Andy unfold. She was no longer purple-haired, Harry-Potter-obsessed, dresses-only-in-flannels Mia Murphy. She was nothing. An observer of someone else's story, even if it was a fictional one. Mia quite liked this vacation from reality. This break from the responsibilities of everyday life.

Mia sat reading as the sun dipped lower in the sky. When finally she finished her book, she felt an almost hollow ache in her stomach. The feeling that comes with finishing a good book. Inspiration and realization are the words that come to her mind when trying to describe this. Inspiration to live her life like the characters of the book who seem to have it all figured out. Soon though, the realization that life isn't as simple as a book makes it out to be. There could be dozens of conflicts and misfortunes or an unhappy ending. The book could even be based on a real life tale, but life will never be as easy as it seems to be in a book.

Mia is not living the events of the story, but merely watching them occur in her mind's eye. She is also not feeling what they would feel. She knows nothing that the author has not written. However, one reason stands out to Mia above all the others. In life there is no way to read ahead. No way to go back and reread if she didn't quite get it the first time. Books are printed. Unchanging. But life... Life changes with every breath taken. Every muscle moved. Every choice made. What seems like the biggest decision of someone's life could turn out to be irrelevant. Oppositely, a seemingly tiny, everyday decision could result in someone's story changing completely.

Mia is powerless to the plot of a book. There are no consequences for her when she's reading. Everything is already set in stone. She can count on that. Mia had always felt that life gave her too much power. She could change her own, or anyone else's life in seconds, but never even know she had.

Having enough existential crisis for the day, Mia pushed herself up, grabbed a new book from the shelf, sank back down into the "green bag chair", and opened it to the first chapter. She let the intoxicating new book smell take her to another world as the summer sun set behind her, contentment written on her face.