Callie got me thinking today. She says that bookstores are her favorite places. Now that I think about it, the library has always been a personal favorite of mine. There’s no pressure to buy anything, and no mob of people coming and going. When I was a kid, I’d ride my bike down to the local branch on weekends, or haunt the school library during lunch and recess.

Childrens’ sections at the public library are cozy and inviting. There are mats on the floor and Maurice Sendak posters everywhere. School libraries are similarly friendly places.

Have you gone into your public library lately, as an adult?

It used to be that I’d rush down to the library when a new book I wanted to read was coming out, and slap a hold on that sucker if it wasn’t there yet. Lately, the first thing I do when a new book comes out is put it on my Amazon wishlist. When someone suggests I get that new book from the library, it’s like they’re asking me why I don’t fly to work. The library has lost its mindshare. And it’s only a block from where I work.

Architecturally, the main branch of the Richland County Public Library (image above) is impressive. Green glass rises four or five stories off the sidewalk on two sides. The building’s interior structure is cantilevered outward — kind of an inverted half pyramid — so that each floor is bigger in area than the one below it. When you look in from the outside, the impression is that of a cutaway diagram. Escalators zigzag up through the large atrium. Concrete, light, industrial carpet, and tall shelves are everywhere.

In short, not the least bit cozy or inviting.

My theory on this is that adults are not supposed to read for enjoyment. We’re all too busy with our jobs and our kids and our hobbies. Someone at work reminded me of a statistic that says that, after graduation, some whopping percentage of Americans never open a book for pleasure again.

So no one much bothers to create a pleasurable reading environment for adults. No, if you go to the library at all, you want to find it, check it out, and go home. Or back to work. You’re not going to spend, say, your whole lunch hour sitting around and reading.

Or would you? If there was a comfy place you could go, close to work, and read awhile (or write or work or listen to music), would you? Would you pay for the privilege?