As many of you may know, I am an addict. A book addict. And a recovering book-store owner.
I have a lot of books. A lot of books.
And yet I keep buying more. And more. Now, as addictions go, this is not a bad one. Cheaper than many addictions, and more intellectually wholesome. But still, a compulsion is a compulsion. Now, the heart of this addiction is, of course, reading. I don't merely collect for the sake of collecting. And I pretty much have to have a book on the go at all times. If not, I feel discombobulated, weird, unsettled. Leave it too long and I'd probably get the shakes. A compulsion is a compulsion, and withdrawal is withdrawal.
Now, I have no interest in stopping reading (nor could I, most likely). But I have decided to attempt a two-month book-buying hiatus.
My sister inspired me. She's also a book nut, and somehow went six months without buying a book. My wife, when hearing this, turned to me and asked, "Do you think you could go six months without buying a book?"
The answer, of course, was laughter. The sheer impossibility of entertaining the mere thought...
But I also just had a birthday. My wife bought me two books, and I received three book gift cards, which in turn netted me another eight books. So, ten books. Shiny, lovely, full of the most perfect paper (book paper is the best paper).
So I started thinking. Six months? That's like trying to climb Everest without so much as attempting a toboggan hill first. But two months? Just until Christmas? With all my books, I certainly shan't go without great books to read. Could I do it?
We shall see. I will attempt it: The Two-Month Promise. I will not buy a book for two months.
I figure the odss are like, oh, 22-1. Against. But if it was easy, it wouldn't be worth anything. Right?