I am an inveterate book sniffer. And you'd think that we'd have a technical term for that by now. I know I'm not the only one who finds comfort in putting one's nose into the middle of a book and taking a deep whiff. There seems to be some traction for the word "bibliosmia," but it's still not technically a word for what I love to do.
The older the book, the better the smell. There is just some kind of spice in those pages that is perfect for the ol' olfactories. But sometimes it's a newer book that will do the trick.
Like the one in the picture above. I just finished reading it last week, and while I carried it around in my backpack, it really classed up my joint. Usually my backpack smells of the cologne I accidentally spilled back there years ago, but while this book was in there, it smelled like fresh leather.
Thunderstorm puts out good quality books. I mean, physically. And this one by Joe R. Lansdale and his daughter Kasey is perfect. I kept sniffing the cover every time I held it. Sometimes at work, if it was a particularly bad day, I'd smell the book. Whenever I was getting ready to go somewhere, I'd take a whiff of my backpack because the fresh leather left its scent behind.
It's a shame that my backpack is back to its old self. It was good while it lasted.
Oh yeah, the book is pretty good, too. Writing-wise, I mean.
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