I'm envious of the days when there were family-owned bookstores that held treasures collected throughout history and corners you could get lost in. There are fewer and fewer these days. Lost gems in a sea of Barnes and Nobles, which even now, seem to be on the brink of extinction with our fast, one-click digital era. Don't get me wrong, I own a Kindle. It's my gluttonous way of packing all the books I want to read as I travel. But it still feels like cheating. I want the dusty search of something magical. The rare gem of reading something forgotten--found by happenstance--like the book was waiting and meant for you. It's the art of the bookshelf. Maybe that's why I collect oddities and books; in hope that my shelves will be that magical place for my children and their children.