Dr. Ist: Hi Gregory, I’m so sorry for being late.

Gregory: It’s okay. Are you okay? You seem a bit rattled.

Dr. Ist: Yes, I’m fine. How are you, how long have you been sitting here?

Gregory: It’s been a minute.

Dr. Ist: I’m sorry. I see About Something on your lap. I’m glad you kept yourself busy. Unfortunately, I don’t have a large library in my salle d’attente.

Gregory: How fancy of you to nonchalantly throw in French words to impress me with your polyglot . . . polyglotness.

Dr. Ist: It was unintentional. My waiting room is not large enough to fit more books.

Gregory: It’s alright. I found one to nestle on my lap. Have you read it?

Dr. Ist: Yes. Have you?

Gregory: No. But I like the title and the cover. I think I’ll wait for the sequel, About Something Totally Different, before I start flipping these pages.

Dr. Ist: Humor. A blessing and a curse.

Gregory: Why is it . . . What?

Dr. Ist: According to the authors, the sequel would still be about something.

Gregory: Oh. That makes sense.

Dr. Ist: Come on in and make yourself comfortable.

Gregory: Thanks.

Dr. Ist: Tea, coffee, water?

Gregory: Water. I’ll fetch it myself. Would you like some?

Dr. Ist: Sure.

Gregory: By the way, you have a signed Tractatus on your shelf.

Dr. Ist: I do?

Gregory: Here you go.

Dr. Ist: Thanks. Sorry, the water is quite warm. I forgot to turn the cold switch on. Okay, let me open my notebook. So what’s on your mind today, Gregory?

Gregory: Nothing special, really. The petite library in your foyer reminded me of—

Dr. Ist: I knew this was coming at some point in our conversation, but didn’t expect it so soon, nor with such a peculiar French accent!

Gregory: You know me too well, Dr. Ist.

Dr. Ist: It’s been almost eighteen years, so yes, I know a thing or two about you. You were saying?

Gregory: Your library reminds me of the video store I work at. Now it’s also a bookstore.

Dr. Ist: You never told me about that. I mean that it’s now also a bookstore. When did this happen? Was this your idea?

Gregory: Yeah, it happened after my last visit here. The owners were supportive of the idea because the business needed a boost due to the gradually diminishing revenue from rentals.

Dr. Ist: Where were you able to fit books in that small space?

Gregory: We built bookcases right in the middle of the store. The best part is that the books are selling well. We replenish the shelves once or twice a week.

Dr. Ist: Gregory, I’m so glad to hear that!

Gregory: Remember when we talked about my troubles with reading and learning?

Dr. Ist: Yes.

Gregory: Well, isn’t it kind of ironic that I’m now managing a bookstore that I built, or rather, was built on my initiative?

Dr. Ist: Not at all! It’s wonderful and I’m glad you feel excited about your workplace now.

Gregory: Yep. I feel less anxious in the mornings when I open the door to the store. I’m no longer as tired, even when we close the store late. Especially on days when we go book shopping after the store has closed. Selecting books to put on our bookshelves, given the limited space, is both a joyous and uneasy endeavor.

Dr. Ist: Why?

Gregory: Because some books are in small quantities in these wholesale bookstores. I may be parting ways with them for good if I don’t select them.

Dr. Ist: I understand. To be honest, I was worried about you when you started working there every day. A few months on that schedule could take a toll on anyone’s health, let alone almost two and a half years. Or has it been longer than that?

Gregory: I’m now on a six-day shift and it feels like I have all the time in the world on that one Sunday.

Dr. Ist: I bet it does. How’s everything else going for you?

Gregory: Everything else steadily ebbs and flows.

Dr. Ist: Mhm.

Gregory: Can we revisit the conversation from my teenage years about my struggles with reading?

Dr. Ist: Of course.

Gregory: I recently started revisiting and transcribing most of our conversations and stumbled on a recording where we discuss this matter. I’d like to go over it with you now if that’s okay?

Dr. Ist: Let’s do it. We can continue beyond our scheduled time to compensate for my late arrival.

Gregory: Great, thanks. By the way, I still don’t know why you asked my parents to purchase a recording machine—pretty expensive for those days—to tape all our conversations for me to keep.

Dr. Ist: I can’t tell you the reason now. We’ll talk about it when the—

Gregory: When the time comes. Sure. Your vague answers bug me sometimes, you know. But as you say. I don’t know where to put all these overstacked boxes with cassette tapes and discs anymore. That’s why I started transcribing them—to open up some space.

Dr. Ist: That’s a good idea.

Gregory: As you know, my struggles with reading and subsequently learning began in my early childhood. I’d be stuck on a paragraph or a sentence for minutes, unable to comprehend the meaning of what I was reading. I brought an excerpt from that conversation. This one is from when I was sixteen. Can I read it to you?

Dr. Ist: Yes, please.

Gregory: Okay, so . . . one sec…ond, here:

. . . but, Dr. Ist, how does moving forward without understanding what I read make any sense?

Dr. Ist: Gregory, without getting into the weeds of why your mind behaves in such a way, I think your lack of confidence in your ability to comprehend written information plays a role in the way you approach reading. You’re a smart kid. I’m confident in your understanding of most of what you read. Also, why is it important for you to understand every single meaning in a story?

Gregory: It’s very important. I’m afraid of missing crucial details and wasting my time blindly reading a book. I feel like I’m disrespecting the author by reading a book like that. And what exactly do you mean by my mind’s behavior?

Dr. Ist: Don’t worry about it now. Are we talking fiction, nonfiction, or both?

Gregory: Mainly fiction. I’m able to read and understand most nonfiction texts. I still go back and forth a few times, but I’ve developed a way to read nonfiction texts by jumping over words and yet somehow understanding what I read. However, and this is very important, do not ever test me.

Dr. Ist: Never.

Gregory: I’m interested in how the world works. I want to know everything. A few core pieces of information on most subjects are enough to satisfy my curiosity. But sometimes, depending on the topic, I need more than little pieces.

Dr. Ist: Is it also possible that you’re not as interested in reading fiction as you are in nonfiction?

Gregory: Umm, no. I don’t think so. It’s mainly the experience of reading. I also prefer reading short stories or poetry to full-length fiction. Interpreting concise stories takes less time and it’s like . . . it’s like solving a crossword puzzle, but with a much more satisfying and . . . and mind-nurturing outcome.

Dr. Ist: Mind-nurturing?

Gregory: Did I say something wrong?

Dr. Ist: No. I like that description.

Gregory: I don’t remember where it’s from. Anyway, I’d absolutely love to read all kinds of fiction every day if I could . . . if I could only process what I read faster. I also like reading about books or writers in those eighty-four-thousand-page encyclopedias and watching television programs about them. It’s like discovering useful . . . um, useful, I mean the side notes on book pages.

Dr. Ist: Do you mean marginalia?

Gregory: Yes, exactly. Marginalia.

Dr. Ist: Gregory, your curiosity is prevailing over the adversities in my view.

Gregory: Thank you. I also forgot to mention the migraines—or at least headaches—that accompany my reading experience. Probably from reading the same sentence repeatedly.

Dr. Ist: Yes, I remember you mentioning your migraines associated with reading back when you were eight or nine. Look, you should do whatever works best for you and not strain yourself—

Dr. Ist: Gregory, let me interrupt you here.

Gregory: Sure.

Dr. Ist: Has it gotten any better since we had that conversation?

Gregory: I still try to read as much fiction as I can. But, no, not really. Now the internet is my new million-page encyclopedia though.

Dr. Ist: Yes, mine too. It’s a great tool for learning about the world, isn’t it?

Gregory: It is. But I hope books will always remain in paper form.

Dr. Ist: Why? Are you worried about the publishing business?

Gregory: That too.

Dr. Ist: I’ll say it again: stick with whatever method works best for you and feeds your curiosity beast. I wanted to follow in my mom’s footsteps and become a marine biologist, but I was struggling with learning some of the disciplines required for such a profession. So I gave up on that idea, to my mom’s great disappointment.

Gregory: You know, every time I visit your office, I can’t help but marvel at that diving helmet Cousteau gave your mom. I wonder how much beauty it’s been exposed to in the depths of the oceans. I always wanted to ask if she ever took you on one of the expeditions with Cousteau.

Dr. Ist: Oh yes, several times. The first was when I was seventeen. I still remember it so vividly. By the way, he gave me a diving helmet at the end of my first exploration with the crew too. There are no words to describe my excitement that day. I couldn’t sleep for a whole week—incessantly marveling at the helmet.

Gregory: I bet! What happened to your helmet, or is this the one?

Dr. Ist: No, this is my mom’s. How many literary genres were you able to fit on your bookshelves?

Gregory: Let’s see . . . I’ve got classics, history, nonfiction, poetry, literary fiction, philosophy, and detective fiction.

Dr. Ist: That’s a lot of books!

Gregory: Well, not really, since I don’t have a big selection of each. But I do take special orders.

Dr. Ist: I’ll definitely keep that in mind.

Gregory: I’ll give you the manager’s discount.

Dr. Ist: I appreciate it! Okay, well, It’s been great seeing you upbeat and full of energy.

Gregory: Thank you. I’ll see you soon then.

Dr. Ist: See you soon, Gregory. Take care.