I've heard of immersing yourself in a good book before, but now the question is what's immersing itself good in our books?
No need to dust for prints; the evidence is strewn all over our bedroom bookshelves: powdery paper silt. Pulpy yellow shavings. Droppings in the shape of all the letters of the alphabet... written as some sort of ransom note perhaps?
Whatever they may be they're having one hell of a book club meeting and literally clubbing our books while their at it!
They're eating our words!
And just look at all of these empty little cocoon sacks weaved to the bottom of each binder! Leaving behind your brood to finish off the next chapter are we?
So, after a bit of on-line research (the bestseller buggers have already eaten the hard copy sources I'm afraid...) we've discovered our culprits!
Seems the volume of our slightly more than satisfactory library is being periodically checked-out by a horde of super slavering cigarette beetles!
"The cigarette beetle (Lasioderma serricorne) is a small, light-brown flying beetle that commonly infests books. The beetle's larvae are one of the types popularly known as bookworms, with eggs laid on the spine of a book and along the edges. Immediately upon hatching, the larvae tunnel under the binding cover, especially down the spine area. The insect then proceeds to tunnel up to 10 centimeters into the paper text, where it pupates into an adult beetle. The adult leaves a round exit hole, as well as powdered paper on the shelf. One of this beetle's favorite foods is dried flowers and spices; these should not be brought into the library."
Massachusetts had it's material munching moths to meddle with now Texas has its book brunching beetles to battle! Irony? Not in our beloved Austin! We're educated here. We are devotees of knowledge! Unless, maybe ... it's a right-winged plot!?
Literally, literature lunching larvae.
Who woulda thunk? Bookworms! Mother Nature has a sentence of humor! And, it'll take more than a bit of manual labor to undo this problem we think.
And, worst of all...
The wicked little weEvils are carnivorous to boot! That's right: Flesh consuming. They have been feasting every night on my apparently woody tasting softcover sheath! I know because I'll find one or two browsing into my skin when I wake up in the morning. Y'ouch! Kind of stings.
It's a mystery as to why.
Maybe I've been reading too much lately and these tiny gnawing nasties are now nipping at all of my tome anointed knowledge? Will I, too, break out in a fuzzy bookworm pupae parade and watch my own spine collapse in on itself as the pages of my life flutter to the floor? Themes there's a possibility...
But hold on just one minute! They don't seem to pester Heather at all! Or, at least she claims she hasn't had a run on with them ... and she reads far more than I do! Period!
Clause and affect: I must be text by some cursive!!
Now, I'll admit I've been called bookish before but never ... wooden!
Well, maybe... just maybe.
I am made of wood! There's a novel thought in the abstract for you! (Essay, chap, do you copy me?) <-- cheap shot... A modern day Pinocchio perhaps? Neo-Gepetto's puppet-boy fashioned from some hybrid tree stalk of lore?
And if so ... what type of wood am I made of exactly?
Wood of...? Alder? Apple? Ash?
Wood of...? Balsa? Beech? Birch?
Wood of...? Cedar? Cherry? Could?
Wood of... Could?
Wood of Could?!?
Would of...? Could have?
Would have, could have ... should?
WOULD HAVE, COULD HAVE, SHOULD HAVE?!?
Damnit. Lost my tract of thought! Guess I shouldn't have written off these bugs so easily; they've gotten deeper inside my head more than I opused for.
I think I'll go outside and roll around in a pile of celebrity gossip magazines.
No doubt that pulp oughtta throw the little bastards off my tale! Or, I'll be fiction to eat my own words...