When I worked at the bookstore, I saw all the new books, all the time. I saw all the backlist, all the time. I shelved all over the store, and managed to find books I was interested in even in when working in the business section or the sports section. I talked to my coworkers about what they were reading and what they had read and what they were going to read. I talked to my customers about the same things.
My list of books to read was endless.
I thought that list would shorten when I left the bookstore. I figured I would start working my way through it, I wouldn't come into constant contact with book stuff, and I'd be freed of this lifelong thing of mine. You know, my obsession.
But no. I've found other ways to enable myself. I receive no fewer than four daily email newsletters from various sectors of the book business. I belong to two book social networking sites. I have a library card now, and visit the sale books carts every time I visit the library.
Although I keep a running list of books I'm interested in next to the computer, I don't ever carry it with me. I only carry the list in my head. Thankfully, there's a short between memory and front of brain that makes me forget what I was so desperately interested in just hours before. Unfortunately, I have Amazon on my bookmark bar and when I'm home everything I want is mere clicks away.
A gentle madness indeed.
1 month ago