Confessions of a book junkie

I have a secret compulsion - buying books. I love going online and throwing books into my cart (I read a lot of review journals which fuels the fires of my addiction), and it's so easy to push "proceed to checkout," adding a little more to get the free shipping. AND THEN, the total thrill of the plain, black lettered cardboard box with its nifty zipper strip awaiting me in the mailbox with the brand new books inside. All mine to hoard and fondle. Think Gollum and his precious. Add to this that I'm a librarian with unlimited access to shiny new books I can bring home FREE , and it's pretty obvious that I really need therapy. (the problem with library books is that you have to take them back) Now, here's the true confession: this buying frenzy wouldn't be classified as a compulsion if I actually found the time to read them all.
But I do have an excuse - my book clubs. It's both a curse and a blessing that I'm a member of two book clubs - they keep picking things not already in my bookcase. But that's one of the reasons you join a book club - to widen your literary horizons. (sometimes I wonder about the wisdom of this) So, every 6 to 8 weeks I must digest two books not on my shelves. (In all fairness, I've discovered some all-time favorites this way) In any event, last weekend, I put all my unread Amazon purchases into a bookcase and counted them. Oh, the shame and horror - 93 books I've purchased and haven't read! If I were to drop out of both book clubs and read one book per week, I could finish them all in one year . . . and 41 weeks. Maybe when I retire . . .

On Chick Lit

When I was younger, my tastes tended toward the more "intellectual" literature. The harder to digest and the more abstruse, the more I hurled my brain into taking it on and then discussing it with similarly pompous friends over spaghetti dinners lit by Chianti-bottle-enshrined candles, and scored by jazz soundtracks.

Now, at a rather ripe age, I have discovered there is no shame in the joys of chick lit. (Better late than never) While the plots all seem to blend together after mass consumption, a healthy dose of chick lit is good for the soul. Nothing wrong with a fairy tale - and it's nice to realize I have not become so cynical at the age of 61 that I can't let myself believe (break out the ruby slippers . . . just wish and tap your heels toether.)

I have a long commute to work and have become addicted to chick lit on CDs. Good companionship for long drives. Jennifer Crusie has become a favorite - her dialogue is witty and fun. BTW, my definition of reading does include listening to unabridged CDs or MP3s - and no, it's not cheating, you're just using a different sense to absorb. So, my blog will be a mix of written and audio, nonfiction, chick lit, mysteries, a dash of horror, and even some"serious" literature (some of which is forced on me by the other members of my two bookclubs. I like to pick and chose my own serious stuff. ) Don't get me started on Ann-Marie MacDonald.