There in the IRA exhibit hall, I cried. I know there were others. A real book is what you get when you write or publish because a story fills your heart till it overflows, or tickles your mind till it pops, or burns in your gut till it eats its way out, or lights up your soul till it radiates forth. Real books enrich. Crap merely impresses.
Real books dive deep.
Crap skims the surface. Real books nourish. Seldom does one heart speak to another. Our children don't need any more crap. They need books that help them grow into full human beings.