Article by Wendy McCance
I have an addiction. It’s pretty bad. I can’t stop collecting books. There are five full size bookcases in our home. I have so many books that I could easily fill one more full size bookcase. Downsizing is not an option. My books are like a diary of my life.
I can peruse my bookshelf and instantly get transported back to what my life was like at the time when I bought each and every one of those books. I can see what interested me at different times of my life. I also see how my taste in books has changed and matured as I have aged.
It’s pretty cool when the kids take a look at the bookcase for something to read. Generally when they can ask if I have a book on a particular subject, 90% of the time, I can pull out at least two or three books that relate to what they are looking for.
I will never be one of those people who uses an electronic device to read. There is just something about having a book in hand, the smell, the feel of the pages and the impression it makes on me when I am holding a particularly thick book that just thrills me.
Today I went up to the bookstore with my husband and son. Thankfully we do have an honest to goodness bookstore within five minutes of our home. Sadly, it is the only bookstore anywhere near our house.
At the bookstore, my husband was looking for a book on programming and my son was interested in finding a good mystery book. I went for the ride. I just can’t resist any opportunity to go into a bookstore. I promised myself I would just help my son find a book. Looking on my own is dangerous as I always find several books that I never just have the heart to leave behind.
My son finished looking around having decided to read a book he had at home but had forgotten about. I was just waiting for my husband to finish looking around and began checking out the books in the biography section. I had no plans to buy a book. I was determined not to get sucked in.
There is something strange that tends to happen once I look at the books on a bookshelf. The book I need to be reading will just jump out at me. I have no thoughts of reading a certain author’s book and there isn’t a particular subject I want to know more about, but a book will still land in my hands. Honestly, it just works that way and it is always turns out to be the most perfect book.
And, that’s what happened! A book appeared in front of me and being curious, I picked it up and read the back cover. The book turned out to be perfect. It was the only book I was drawn to. I really wanted to read this book, but had made a promise not to pick out a book and so I put it back, and then, picked it up again. I just couldn’t help myself.
My husband came around the corner ready to purchase his book and saw the book I was holding. His first comment was, “don’t you already have that book?” I didn’t and told him so. His reply, “well it looks like every other book you are reading at home.” Unfortunately, yes it’s true, there are a few books that have a similar theme at home in the bookcase, but honestly, this book is different (different author, different front cover).
Long story short, I bought the book and now have a new dilemma. I have 4 other books I am already reading. Yep, one book isn’t enough for me to read at a time anymore. Now I have several books that I will juggle at once. My love of reading is literally out of control. Currently I am reading Paris in Love, by Eloisa James, Writing is My Drink, by Theo Pauline Nestor, Invent it , Sell it, Bank it, by Lori Greiner and Lost Lake, by Sarah Addison Allen. Now I have my newest book, Lunch in Paris, by Elizabeth Bard to add to the list.
On the way home, my son was talking about all the reading I do. I made a comment that if I had a year with no outside responsibilities, I could spend all of my days reading books and writing. I truly believe I could fall off the side of the earth and fill my days in that exact way. I don’t know how healthy that really is, but it’s true. I enjoy that alone time when I fully absorb myself in reading and writing best and don’t think I would get bored just spending my days in such a manner. Of course to make the picture complete, I would like to be living in a picturesque spot and have unlimited amounts of wine. Just to really complete the picture, my husband could hang around working on his own stuff and maybe we could have a hammock out back overlooking the beach in this perfect scenario.
Over the years it has occurred to me that although I prefer warm weather over cold, winter has one prime benefit. I can spend my days snuggled up in my home reading and writing without guilt of what is going on outside my door. I don’t have that same need to go outdoors and experience life when the weather is miserable.
What about you? Do you a seemingly innocent addiction to something like books that could very easily fill your days and keep you feeling content?
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