In addition to getting books I wanted when I wanted them, I would comb the bargain sections of thrift stores or infrequently, yards sales to see if I could find an unappreciated treasure. A first edition; a signed copy; a reasonably rare edition…
I usually found more than I could read at one time and they stacked up, always with a hopeful thought of someday getting to them… An unfortunate fire in 2013 “cured” me, if one can be cured, or more to the point…wants to be cured. I can now see books and more books … and more books… and not feel the need to have them. The realization that I have maybe 4,000 or so left to me in my lifetime is sobering, and I find a need to choose what I read more critical. I still like books, and having crossed over to the e-version side, it’s so much easier to have more than one on the currently reading list.
Now, strangely enough, there are rare times when I can’t get into anything. I have three non-fiction books I’m reading now – one an “assigned reading” for a management seminar, and the other two choices – and a couple of non-fiction as well as half a dozen others I’ve picked up and just don’t want to read now. Chalk it up to foggy brain or fatigue, nothing seems to be able to grab and hold my attention for the past few days. It’s happened before, and is no less disconcerting now than in the past, particularly with that awareness of a ticking countdown. Sometimes it takes extremely simple reading to break the wall – YA fiction, juvenile fiction, things written on the same level of juvenile fiction (50 Shades and anything by George R. R. Martin come to mind), but sometimes even mindless reads like E. L. James or Martin don’t quite work.
I hope that a little rest and maybe a Tom Swift or a Clive Cussler can get me back on track sooner than letting this run its course.