So I’ll admit it. I’m a little bit of a hoarder. Not in the sense of having everything in my house to the ceiling and where I’m living with rats. That just happens during dead week. I jest of course! But seriously when dead week rolls around it’s all just a mass of papers. Papers everywhere.
If I am any type of hoarder I’d like to say I’m really just more of a collector. It’s like collecting Pokemon cards or stamps. You just keep buying more because you really want the sparkly Charizard. See it’s like that with me, except my vice would be stationary and books. And sometimes ice cream (except those cartons exit the freezer pretty quick).
Besides the fact that I keep buying books (it’s easy to get swayed into impulse buys, so good job marketers!) my bigger problem is that I sometimes tend to just leave the story halfway through. Right now I have at least five of those beautiful novels sitting on my shelf. And I’m not sure if I should hate myself for just leaving them unattended and unloved and just give up on them and move on, or if I should just lead them on because I’m not sure if I’ll need them in the future. Obviously, it’s an extreme dilemma filled with an emotional attachment. So maybe you could help me out. If I ask please, would that make it more persuasive? I mean these are books are on my forever growing “To Read” list. So I truly do want to read them in the future, but since I have pushed a couple of them back for at least three years should I just replace them to free up space on my bookshelf? In addition, if I continue with them what are some suggestions on plowing through them? Should I have some sort of order?
See the picture below to see just a few of the books that are on my “To Read” list. It’s pretty much the four books on the left with two more in the stack on the right. Also, you can see part of the stationary problem I have. The complete list of my dilemma follows.
Here are the books currently unread once through on my shelf (in no particular order):
Peony in Love by Lisa See
Wuthuring Heights by Emily Bronte
Death Comes to Pemberly by P.D. James
Getting In by Karen Stabiner
The Pianist by Wladyslaw Szpliman
A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean
The Meaning of It All by Richard P. Feynman
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
The Inferno by Dante
Of course this doesn’t even cover the list books I want to read. That list is probably twice as long, minimum, to the list above. Your comments and thoughts are greatly appreciated. Someone please tell me they have the same habit, because you know. I don’t want to feel more forever alone.
As Always Best Wishes,