Confessions of a Bookaholic

Close to 1200 pages in 2 different books over 2 straight days.  There’s a good chance I will get sucked in again this afternoon.  Yes.  My name is Kaysie and I’m a bookaholic.  Admittedly, the books were an easy read and I’d read them before, but still.

 

See the resemblance?

There was a time when one of my favorite activities was to go to the public library, select a book, and settle into one of the most comfortable chairs I’ve ever been in.  During my Hawaii years, there were many instances when I would take an hour bus ride just to spend some time in the mini-bookstore at the mall.  Imagine my delight when this tiny shop became a full blown Borders.  I can spend hours in a bookstore without getting bored.  No exaggerating.

 

I have always thoroughly enjoyed reading.  Biographies, historical fiction, fantasy, I’m up for trying just about anything.  Once I find something I enjoy, I tend to devour it.  As in no breaks, little food, and no sleep until I reach that final page.  I have noticed that I like to read series, probably because they satiate the addiction for a little bit longer.  I also enjoy reading the same books repeatedly.

I would SO love a chair like this!

I’m not sure what it is that fascinates me so.  It just provides a wonderful escape from the drugery of my day to day life.  I can visit far away places, experience happiness, sorrow, guilt, grief, and joy from a safe distance.  Books are reliable and unchangeable.  They can’t hurt me.  Or if they do, then I don’t have to keep reading.

 

This addiction tends to hit me in waves, especially if I start in on a series (like I did this week).  And it almost never applies to assigned reading.  All throughout my public education, I was the kid who would start reading a book the night before it was due even though I’d had weeks to read it.  And I usually wouldn’t finish it, even if it was a short, quick read.  Ironic, isn’t it?