Wow, when I break the seal, it's broken. At the middle school library today, I checked out four books (which is two more than I'm technically allowed to, but they're going on winter break soon, and nobody will be reading them! Also, they have three copies of at least one of them! I'm not stealing from children, really I'm not!). I also borrowed three books from the pile in the back room of unregistered books that aren't in the system.
Two are Babysitter's Club books, which almost don't count. One was the fourth Lemony Snicket book, which I'm not sure if I have the mental fortitude to read, but by Jove I'll try. The rest, though, are part of a new, informal project I'm embarking on; I'd like to read most of the Newbery Medal winners.
Mike and I were perusing a list of them the other day and I realized that, of the 80 or so that have one, I've read about 16. Which is great. (I won't embarrass Mike by revealing how few he had read, but let me put it this way: you can count them on one thumb.) But so many of them are some of the greatest YA books ever: A Wrinkle in Time, The Westing Game, Holes, The Hero and the Crown. So I think it might be worth it to read more of them. I don't want to read them all--once a year since 1922 is a lot of books, and I have no desire to drag myself through a bunch of YA that I'm not going to enjoy as an adult. But I picked up The Slave-Dancer, Caddie Woodlawn, and The Door in the Wall, all of which had appealed to me independently. So I'll probably shoot for reading about half of them--at least all that appeal to me.
So I plunge into this plan, and roll around in the 9 official check-outs and 6 or so unofficial library-owned books that I have right now, and I'm like a pig in poo. It's glorious. I really get a high off it.
Oh, and you should read The Golden Compass. I will not spoil the movie for you.