My Strange Addiction
My Strange Addiction
“They” say that the first thing you must do when you are an addict is admit that you have a problem. Well…my name is Sarah and I am an addict. I have a very serious problem. I am addicted to books. A big part of my problem is that I have no problem admitting it. Just ask my husband…and my bookshelves that are stuffed to the hilt with books falling out of them every which way and piled up on top of each other because there is no longer any room for them to fit like a normal book on a bookshelf. There are books in every single room of my house, except for maybe my son’s bathroom, and in the rooms unfortunate enough not to have their own bookcase, there are books piled up on dressers, tables, nightstands and counters. It’s bad. I have books still in boxes in my garage from when we moved nearly 3 years ago that I still go down and paw through, searching for a long lost book that I have renewed interest in or need to find for research for something or other. That lucky book finds its way to my shelf, or table, or counter because I feel bad for it if I have to send it back to the outermost regions of my dark, dank garage, destined to sit in a soggy box jail until I need it again. Once they are in, they are in permanently….I think my house has personality issues wondering whether or not it is actually a house or a library….
“They” also say that if you are addicted to alcohol, you should never enter a bar, be around spirits or hang out with people that constantly drink. Well, the bookstore is my bar, the smell of Barnes & Noble makes me excited and high, running my fingers over the bindings, bending over to read the titles gives me a unique thrill and I love the people that sit on the floor under the bookshelves and read the dust jackets and covers (oh, wait…that’s me – I mean the others up the floor from me). We don’t need to talk; we just simply know that that we are one and the same, sewn together by the common thread of fiction addiction, research insanity and page turning prowess.
For a while there, I thought that with the new e-book craze and online books that I would be able to control myself as reading a book on the computer or notebook just doesn’t cut it for me, but alas, the bookstore beckoned me with its mysterious magnetic pull (I had to purchase a book for my son’s summer reading program) and I was once again back in the sweet security and comfort of the new fiction aisle, classics section and theology shelf. I went in to buy one book for my son and exited with six for me (who knew they had a new bargain section with new hardbacks for just five or six dollars?!). It’s bad…I know. It was like being away from a long, lost friend and running into them again out of the blue…visiting together when the hours fly by like seconds and you just can’t get enough of them. I KNOW! ITS’ BAD! I’ve been back twice since then and have bought a lot more books…no, I’m not telling you how many. What is really bad is that I have all but one of them read already…I know, don’t say it…its bad.
The really bad thing would be if all the bookstores went out of business because of this insane e-book craze. Most Borders I frequented in my younger years have all gone out of business. Thank the good Lord is heaven there is still a Barnes & Noble in our nearest town. There is nothing like the smell of a new book, turning each page with your fingers, expectantly waiting for the continuance of someone’s life story, or ongoing saga with the beginning of the next chapter you literally turn to and control yourself. Pen to paper….that’s how it all began. That’s how it should stay. A book is not living and breathing on a computer, it is the feel of the cover, the pages and the ink that gives life to a book, that holds it together…that brings it to life on a bus, a bed, a chair, a grassy park, a bench, a plane, a boat, a soft carpeted floor, in a tub or floating on a raft. Computers are not good on a raft or in a tub for that matter. I may be old-fashioned, but old-fashioned has been given a bad name over time and books should stay tangible, able to be touched – paper and ink, able to be held in your hand, with pages able to be written on with a pen and paper clipped for future quick reference. “Book” …the word alone is the powerful owner of magic and mystery, joy and sadness, life and death, sweetness and sorrow, real life and imaginative wonderment all in something small enough to hold in your own hands, carry with you and share with someone else.
Yes. My name is Sarah and I am an addict. I have a very serious problem. I am addicted to books. A big part of my problem is that I have no problem admitting it. Are you addicted?
If not, I suggest my newest favorite author, Alex Grecian, and his book, The Yard. His next book in the series, The Black Country, is the one book I bought that I haven’t read yet….gotta go get started!
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