caged birdies

Showing posts with label bookaholic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bookaholic. Show all posts

Monday, July 19, 2010

The Fix

I think I understand, to an extent, what it's like to be an addict. That need for the next fix, the familiar ritual and the feeling you get when you've finally gotten it and what you're about to experience. ::Allyson Stands Up:: 'Hi, my name is Allyson and I'm addicted to reading books.'

It's 2:15am and I just completed my most recent book. I won't bore you with the title, it's by an author who with other authors co-writing his crime drama books with him has been mass-producing books every month or so it seems. Nothing noteworthy. What's the bother is that it's now 2:16 am and I don't have a book in the ques to read next. No worries, I've got tons of books that I've already read just waiting for me to revisit them like a familiar friend. They'll do in a pinch.

What's gotten under my skin is that I want a new book to read. One that I've never touched before. I want to bring it home, crack open the spine and hear the pages as they skim through my fingers. I want to see the nice little letters all dressed in black and in nice neat lines like little soldiers of words, ready to go into my head at my command. Like any good junkie will do, there's the smell of the product that just hits home and makes the experience so much more enjoyable. There is nothing like the crack of the spine in a new book when you smell the binding glue, the smell and the feel of the pages. Older books are so much more better, they creak and crackle like the joints of an elder would. Their pages once so bright have weathered to shades of ochre and amber and are dry and a bit musty. They smell of dust and of the homes they once belonged to. Those books, those are the true joys. Those are the loved books.

Don't get me wrong, I won't read just anything for the sake of reading or because it's an old frail book. It's about consumption of the book that's just as important to the process and experience as any other, does the book and characters draw me in, do they feel real? When I'm so drawn into a book that when you stop reading and you come out of the book, real life seems a little bit more bright and more harsh than when you left it. The world could literally and figuratively crash around me when I'm reading and I would pay no mind and be content to be left completely alone as I were. Those are the good books.

By far, one of my favorite things to do with a new book as I crawl into bed is to crack the spine in preparation for reading. It's something I do not do until the book is mine. In fact, I have been known to return books to the shelves whose readers have cracked the spine already mid-browse. You know, there are ways of skimming books without cracking the spine. Once I'm settled into bed, usually with a snack, some hot tea, one or two cats depending on their mood and a comfy blanket or at least a piece of that comfy blanket - the amount to be determined by the one or two cats, depending on their mood. It's the perfect set up. It calms and settles me. The world around me, for now, can wash away and I can get lost in someone else's story.

So here's the rub, dear readers as it approaches 2:35am, I have that twitch that only a new book will fill. Sure, cracking open a familiar story still has those tactile senses that I oh so look forward to, but there's nothing like a brand new book that belongs to you. I read like some people breathe, so stale air while sometimes is sustainable, is nothing like the real thing. Fortunately for me, perhaps unfortunately for Eddie we are picking up my nephews at Borders tomorrow.

Already my body is a buzz. Books! I just need one. And lucky me, my iPhone JUST uploaded a Border's rewards coupon for 40% off of my next purchase. 40% people, you can't argue that and I promise you I'll find a book that will fit in quite fine with the rest of my collections. My mind can slow down from the day and focus on the army of words meant to remove me from the sometimes overwhelming unnecessary crap of life these days. And like water, I've found one more tangible thing that restores my soul.

Monday, May 31, 2010

No Sleep `Til. . .

No. . .seriously, no sleep `til when? I'd really like to know. I've spent more time awake this past week than I have asleep. I finally, after complete and utter exhaustion, get maybe a day or two of a regular sleep cycle and then it's a slow and gradual decrease of sleep each night. The less I sleep the more I hurt, the more I hurt the less I sleep.

I know it's the nature of the fm beast but can't a gal get a break? On the bright side (yeah, I remember that promise I made too) I've been reading a lot. Since I was practically born with a book in my hand, I really can't complain all that much. I'm never one to miss an opportunity to read and it pretty much doesn't matter what it is as long as it's in english (I'll even read a book to completion even if I don't like it.) So I guess if I've got to stay up til all hours of. . .well. . .any time, I've got a lot of reading to do.

That should make my husband happy though. I've got two nearly 2ft and 1 1ft stack of books I've accumulated that I've got to read. Did I mention that I like to read, you might not have picked up on that yet. Not to mention the books that I've had loaned to me (sorry mom!)that I haven't touched yet. So I mean really, this whole no sleep thing is a win-win situation right? More time awake is more time to read, more time to read makes a happy Ally and a happy Ally is a less owie-Ally. Now if only I can add more hours to the day. . .