Does it matter whether you fill your head with the classics or modern books? Manga or SciFi/Fantasy? Romance or nonfiction? The top 100 books by NPR or the Rory Gilmore Challenge? Does what you read matter as much as the fact that you are reading?
Like the rest of the pandemic-trapped world, I’m at home social distancing and watching way too much HGTV. It has inspired me to launch a few home improvement projects and write this blog, which is admittedly more of a rant. Sorry. Though I think I do make some good points about using the right word and why that’s important, so please read through the rant to the end. It gets better. And thanks for letting me get this off my chest.
This past weekend I went to a bookstore with my family and browsed for longer than they wanted and not as much as I did. As we were leaving, my son asked whether I had enjoyed my playdate. It made me pause for a moment, but I could not refute the basic sentiment. My friends are found within the pages of the books I love and, frankly, the ones I am still flirting with on the not-read-yet shelf. This is not to say I don’t have real, flesh-and-blood friends, but the ones who live on the page are among my favorite. I cannot lie.
I am a somewhat typical writer/reader, I think. Somewhat a recluse, though not completely. The condition is not even self-diagnosed. I have proof. On the Myers-Briggs test, which I have taken three times in my life, I have consistently scored 49 out of 50 as an introvert.
I am not a social creature. At least not with the living. But in the world of fiction, I am gregarious, open and a traveler of worlds. I am bold and engaged.
My fictional friends are constant and true. They have seen me through childhood, tumultuous teen years, young adulthood and whatever you want to call where I am now. I am certain they will be there through my golden years too. It is the gift all readers receive. Friends for life. No matter what.
It is also a gift given by writers.
Today is one of those wonderful days when I face one of my favorite reader moments—that brief interlude between books that is filled with anticipation. What book comes next? Which will I pull from the shelves?
I finished my book last night and chose to wait until tonight to pick a new one so I could live in anticipation. All day I have mentally listed the books on my bedside table and crammed onto my bedroom shelves. I thought about the books in my office library, which total nearly 7,000. I considered going new school and reading one of the several hundred on my Nook, which is not my favorite way to read. Heck, I even considered buying a new book to add to the masses. So many choices.
It is the choice of what comes next that makes me happy. It’s that potential of unraveling a new story and falling into a new world that keeps me moving from one book to the next.
Reading is my hobby, my passion and my obsession. I am not afraid to admit that I collect (hoard) books and have more than 7,000 books in my house. They are in every room, in every corner. My husband fears for the structural integrity of our floors on higher levels. He is not wrong to do so. Books are heavy.
I cannot stop buying them. Each one offers such possibilities. Will they become a friend or a mentor? Will they disappoint, but teach me why that is? Will they linger on my shelves for years waiting for me to open them knowing I may never catch up with my stack of books to read.
My library is a source of pride, happiness and anticipation. It feeds me and sustains me. It gives me comfort.
I am an addict.
A book addict.
When I can’t read, I turn to audio books. I love to listen while I use the treadmill or go on long solo road trips. For those short jaunts about town, I turn to audio short stories.
The great news is that there are plenty of places to get audio files for free, here are some of my favorite:
I dislike tossing books aside even when I don’t like them. Sometimes it is out of loyalty to the author, particularly if it is someone I have loved in the past. Sometimes it is because I need to know how it ends, even though the story or characters are disappointing. Sometimes it is simple stubbornness to finish what I have begun.
These books can be helpful though.