To read or re-read…..
Jen gave me a row and told me to get my arse in gear and get a new post up, asking about what I have been reading in the interim.
To be honest I had a couple of shaky weeks. I have still been reading, but not really enjoying it much. I’ve been kind of twitchy. I want to re-read some old comfort reads and my eyes keep lingering over the BDB books (but I just re-read them all in June…) or Marjorie M. Lui’s Dirk & Steele series.
But then, my eyes fall on the TBR pile and I can’t. I little voice inside my head says, ‘You can’t re-read those books, look at all those books you’ve bought and you haven’t read yet.’ I start to feel really guilty that I have spent all this money on these books and haven’t looked at them twice since bringing them home and hoisting them up to the summit of the ever-expanding pile.
This friggin’ pile of books is starting to loom over me like some kind of gigantic monolith casting its cold, dark shadow over my reading pleasure. It’s such a silly thing to feel guilty over, but there you have it. Every time I start to glom a new author (This week it has been Laura Lee Guhrke – Thanks Sarai!) I think…YOU HAVE ENOUGH! NO MORE UNTIL YOU GET RID OF THIS LOT!
It’s even more difficult keeping track with the e-books. (Probably because I can get my hands on almost anything and if you know the right places, it’s free! *cough* )
It just keeps growing and growing and growing….it’s starting to remind me of the Trapper Keeper on South Park. One day I’m going to wake up to find it has absorbed me into it’s hellish bowels.
With all this guilt hanging over me, I haven’t been enjoying anything much, so I think, ‘Fuck it, let’s just read ….’ but I. just. can’t. make. myself.
Am I destined never to re-read anything ever again? Will my frugal Scottish roots forever barr me from re-visiting the wonder of Matt Farrell or what about my favourite Dakotan ranchin’ family, The McKays! Or my favourite gay bookseller, Adrien?
I want to have a happy relationship with my TBR pile, but it seems I will have to bear the emotional blackmail and the many recriminations it sends my way when I look towards an old friend. It’s not cheating, is it?
Is there a twelve step program out there for people like me? People with an obsessive need to keep. reading. new. books.