My name is Tracey and I’m a book addict.
There. I’ve said it. Although anyone who knows me well is not surprised by this confession.
My book addiction (buying, reading… and writing, but that’s a different topic) has been in my blood since childhood. From the first time I began earning allowance, as a matter of fact, but after candy purchases. Candy almost always came ahead of books, but one had to have something to snack on while consuming all those books.
If the psychic I once visited is to be believed, my love for books actually precedes my childhood. She saw me “surrounded by books” in a previous life. Although, come to think of it, I also think she said I was a man in that life, and why I would give up that advantage in this life, I have no idea! Point is, I think books have been a part of my past for a heckuva long time.
I’ve never been much of a library consumer, it pains me to say, because libraries are wonderful institutions and you can’t beat the price of free books. Instead, I’ve always been a sucker for purchasing books, and I think this perfectly illustrates my book addiction.
See, I like to be immersed in books. Books I get to keep. Books I get to fondle, look at whenever I want, and read over and over again. (Okay, that last part is a lie, since I have so many purchased books I haven’t even read yet, that the chances of me re-reading any of my books get slimmer every year!).
I find it soothing whenever I walk into a bookstore. Got stress? Something bugging you? For me, spending an hour browsing in a bookstore has always been a tonic to all that ails. Books, for me, are an instant anti-depressant.
I always get a little bit in trouble at home whenever the brown UPS truck pulls up, because nine times out of ten, it’s delivering books I’ve ordered online. I’ve tried very hard to teach the dogs not to bark “at the little brown truck,” but they always do, which means I can’t sneak the books into the house.
One of these days, I tell myself, I’ll have to slow down my book buying. It’s probably the same thing die-hard smokers and drinkers tell themselves—that they’ll cut back someday. So I tell myself that, but I probably won’t do it. I do, however, like to remind myself that at least my addiction won’t kill me (although it might bankrupt me).
The only true downside to my addiction I can think of is that I might actually die before I get around to reading every book I own.
So with that thought, I’ll try not to buy any more books for at least a month!
