Why In the World Did I Start this Blog Anyway?
Well, to be perfectly honest, I started Unabridged Earl Grey because I am tired of books. Wait a second. Are we getting off on the wrong foot? Maybe this isn’t the most propitious start of a book blog…. But it’s true. Books and I have been seeing quite a lot of each other lately, and it’s kind of driving me Mr- Rochester’s-wife-in-the-attic. (That would be a book pun. I hope you know what you’re getting into.)
Now before you go finding a book blogger that’s worth her salt and gets off on the perfectly right foot every time, AND doesn’t bombard you with book puns to boot, let me explain myself a smidge. Don’t get me wrong, I am head over heels for books. Yeah right, you scoff. But it’s true, and it has been ever since the 3rd grade, when my teacher—Nancy Tomei, wherever you are, BLESS YOU!—lent me Girl In Blue by Ann Rinaldi, and I fell desperately in love with this rebel/hero/spy/everything 8-year-old Emma aspired to be, and I read it approximately 8,537 times and I accidentally on purpose forgot to give it back at the end of the year—Nancy Tomei, wherever you are, I STILL FEEL GUILTY ABOUT THIS!
Not only was this the beginning of my life of crime in the book thievery business (*cough* just kidding), but it was more importantly the year that I learned just how many worlds existed out there in that great big world, which only got bigger with every book I read. I decided I liked the worlds in my head better than the one outside, and I retreated deeper and deeper into the fortress of my imagination. Pretty soon every recess and lunch break was spent in the school library, and my old friends quit trying to talk to me and let me make new ones out of Hermione Granger, the Melendy kids, Laura Ingalls, and Ivanhoe. My teacher (although somewhat reluctantly, for which I give her credit) had to reprimand me nearly every day for reading with my book under the desk in the middle of our math lessons, and my parents threatened to take my bedroom door off its hinges to make me come out of my hole and interact with my siblings.
In a lot of ways, over a decade later, I am still like this. If I tried, I could be very happy as one of those weird hermits from the Byzantine Empire that lived alone on top of pillars for years on end, if only there was room for a few hundred bookcases too.
That is, I thought that I could, until very recently. Over the past year, my friend group has gone through a lot of changes, with most of my close book buddies and literary soulmates moving away to bigger and better things. Suddenly, I didn’t have anyone to engage in a rowdy Darcy versus Bingley debate, or bemoan the ending of the Eragon series with (seriously Paolini… I don’t think I’ll ever recover from that one). There was no one left who understood, who knew. Until then, I never realized the importance of a community of readers. There is only so much dreaming and pontificating one can do alone in one’s head before one’s head becomes overly inflated to such a dangerously ostentatious degree that one begins to believe that one is the ONLY one with any sort of opinion at all.
No one wants that, not really, and that’s why I decided to start this blog. I don’t want to get stuck inside my own head, but do I want to grow my book-cabulary, and I want to connect with you, hear from you, and help you grow yours! I love books, and I don’t want to forget that they’re not worth very much if there’s no one to share them with.