Books, that is. I swear, my reading wish list is actually starting to threaten me. I've outgrown my big, green, garage sale bookshelf. Every flat surface is doing duty supporting two or more books. And why? Because I have all the discipline of a three-year-old in Toys R Us... or myself standing in the cookie line at Specialty's Cafe. Yumm...
Used to be, I had a strict rule that I could not buy a new book unless I had finished my last. That way, I could race home and disappear under a quilt in the corner of the sofa for hours with no guilt that I was neglecting a different set of characters or getting behind.
Now, I'm plain ole weak. Just last week, two books came home with me. Now, they sit taunting me because I can't get to them, as I'm still in France with Julia.
Also, I'm sloooowwww. In junior high, we took a timed reading test, being given three columns of information. Then we answered questions. I was the second to last to finish reading, narrowly beating out the D- student in the back. Dang, he was cute! But I was first in the answers.
Now, this is a blessing (great memory) and a curse (my books are my friends and I miss them and want to visit them again... no, I don't talk to stuffed animals). When the details fade out, then I'm allowed. I still can't pick up "Bel Canto" by Ann Patchett, and I read it, what, seven years ago? It's blazed in my mind, especially Gen's longing to speak for himself, adding his name to the list of the hostages. I may never get to read Barbara Kingsolver's "The Poisonwood Bible" again. She had me at the cake mixes. Sigh.
So what's a girl to do?
- Invest in an e-reader and clear a shelf? (Where's the cozy factor?)
- Quit her job to read? (How far away is the soup kitchen?)
- Get a library card and not KEEP books? (Umm... who?)
Okay, I've whined quite enough. Reading wish lists must wait till next time. Also, I really, really need to dust. Oh, and write.... hhahhaha! Lord.