Book Addict
I am a book addict.
“When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left I buy food and clothes.” –Desiderius Erasmus
Sometimes, I use that quote as my e-mail signature file. When I first read that quote, it resonated with me at a deep, deep level. I think I have books in every room of my house. I love books. Fiction, non-fiction, it doesn’t matter really. I have to admit, I haven’t read at least a third of them. And, probably, of those, I’ll only get around to 80% eventually. But, that honestly doesn’t bother me. Some of those books are for reference. Some, I have for a single page of information or a single photograph or image.
I have a sixty-page wishlist at Amazon.com. And, that’s after culling out the deadwood and a recent book buying binge. Mostly, these are books that I’d love to have, one day. Possibly for one of the many “projects” that float around in my head for years, sometimes never even coming to fruition. But, sometimes, they’re just there because they’re interesting. Right now, I have even more in my Amazon shopping cart. A reward to myself teasing me along in both my writing and my work on my home office. The carrot that offsets my own inner proverbial stick.
I love the smell of new books. That pulpy, inky fresh smell of a book that hasn’t been read yet. I like the weight of them in my hand. The cool feel of a slick paperback or the firm authority of a weighty hardback.
And, always, their words whisper to me, like a seductive woman taunting me with secrets which only I can discover. Technical information, style advice, fiction, humor… They’re all the same to me. I let my mood dictate my next subject and commit to it for the duration. Once I reach that point of no return, I follow it through to the end. Just like a seductive woman.
Hey, it beats jonesing for a cigarette!
