On the 30th of May, I finished That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis – the forty-fifth book in my book buying ban.
I was finished. I was done.
181 days had passed without a single book purchase. I’d read 45 books that I’d owned and never read before.
I’d love to tell you that I bought one book, or perhaps two. Or three.
Reader, I did not.
I splurged. I feasted. I laid waste to my bank account. I had a list, I crossed off that list. I crossed off books that weren’t even on the list. I made brutal decisions on which books to buy and which books to leave behind. It was cold and calculated and amazing.
I splurged on books on sleep, classical poetry, on hieroglyphics, on classics, on current events, on the Amelia Peabody series, on children’s books, on research books and so on and so forth.
I didn’t know why on earth I’d done such a stooped thing as to ever embark on a book buying ban in the first place. What a half-wit! What a nincompoop!
I was a fish returned to her natural habitat: the sea.
And then it abated. (These things tend to.)
(A lean month of penny pinching followed. Your actions, dear friends, have consequences.)
Also – to quote from a certain post:
“I’m all for building a personal library, but I want to do it in a mindful manner. Not in a frenzy of buying a stack of books I’ve haven’t read.”
I have no defense. For the bad grammar (PRESENT PERFECT? Here? Pfft. What a noob.) or for ignoring the lesson. I was a bookworm drunk on power. I have learned lessons and after the ban, I chose to ignore those lessons. It was glorious.
I’ve learned that as a reader, I should enjoy the things I have – the books on my shelves. No book left unread! and all that.
And as a ban-parched bookworm? I’d like to think that I’ve learned to appreciate the prospect of new adventures and to look for books of interest. Not mindlessly reaching for just any old book ( LOOK! A BOOK IN THE WILD! GOTTA CATCH ‘EM ALL!), but to think about the ones I’d like to read.
Because of that book on sleep, I’ve learned the value of sleep, get more than five hours per night (huzzah! There can be miracles!!) and the black sacks under my eyes are less evident. (I mean – they’re still there but I feel better about them. )
Books have power – to inspire, to give you knowledge, and to whisk you away to worlds unknown.
I love it.
I truly do.
If this book buying ban has taught me anything it is this: reading is a delight to me – a real delight.
May it ever be thus.