Life Of A Book Addict

Books, book and more books. 

If you Google the definition for 'addict' you'll most likely get a bunch of websites about drug abuse, noteworthy rehab facilities and probably an article or two about Lindsay Lohan. 

However when I hear the word 'addict' it is immediately followed by an image of my bookcases popping into my head.

But not just my bookcases, no, because they are so filled to capacity that I also have 4 of those Barnes and Noble totes (you know the ones, they keep them by the registers and they have different classic book covers on each one). Each of mine is filled to the top.

But it doesn't stop there, I have stacks all over the place, on my desk, in the closet, under my vanity. That doesn't even count my e-books or my audible library. Hell don't get me started on libraries. I'm currently at my 30 book limit with my local library. 

Anyone who has ever spent a weekend hanging out with my knows that my day isn't complete without spending an hour (or three) at the bookstore. Be it Barnes and Noble or the local used bookstore half an hour away.  

I'm the first to admit that I am 100% addicted. I'm thrive on books, I breathe them, I eat them up, I drink in their knowledge. 

In any other aspect of my life I'm whatever you would call the opposite of a hoarder. I love organizing and cleaning and throwing away things that I haven't used in the last month. I hate having junk lying around. I'm not sentimental, I won't save birthday cards or graduation announcements. Your getting married? That's great, the date is now in my phone and the invitation is in the trash. 

But I cannot throw away books, I can't give them away, I can't re-gift them or donate them or recycle them and make cute little book wreaths. I just can't. 

I pride myself with my collection, my bookcases are memories. 

I read some while on vacation, during that huge winter storm last year or when I had that really bad cold. Some have my favorite quotes and others have beautiful covers. Some I've read and re-read, memorizing passages and crossing my fingers for a sequel. I grew up reading some of them, or had a special person in my life recommend some to me. Some held my hand during the hard times while others smiled back at me during the good times. 

Some I will quite possibly never read again. But still they sit there with all the others, they get shuffled around and dusted weekly. And I'm sure they cringe whenever I bring home a new bag. But they will never be anywhere else but my bookcase. 

You know how when you listen to a song and it's okay, it has a nice beat or a good melody, you hum along but it's not your favorite. It's just a song. Just some notes thrown together and just a voice singing some words. But then something happens and you hear that song again and it just fits into your life so perfectly. 

It's the same way with books, you can read it a thousand times and walk away with something different every single time.

It's just a book, just 26 letter strewn together to create 300 pages. It's just a story. Just an opinion. 

But it's not. 

It's magic. Every word, every line, every thought put to paper is magical in it's own way.

That why I'm proud to be a book addict. My drug of choice is words, and the best part is, you can never overdose. 

Until next time, 

Ginger