I have a lot of strange little quirks when it comes to me and books. It borders on compulsive, these
problems habits of mine.
First, I can’t seem to stick one book at a time. I don’t know how it happens, but I always wind up in the middle of at least three books – more often six or seven at a time. I think it’s because if the original book that I started reading isn’t closest to me, I just grab whatever is near and start reading that. Then I like to keep a small paperback in my purse. You know, just in case. Then I have people loaning me books all the time and I like to work my way through those pretty quickly so I can return them to their rightful owners. Lastly, I always seem to be in the middle of that book that I just can’t seem to get through…
Which leads me to my next book-ism. I can’t leave a book unfinished. I’ve only done it once with Frank Herbert’s Dune and I don’t doubt that one day I will go back and finish that. It doesn’t seem to matter how awful the book is or how long it takes me to get through it, I am determined to give the book its chance to the very end. The book that I’m reading currently is one of those ones. It’s good, but not great and I’m finding myself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of characters and the similarities in all their names and titles. I’ve been reading this book since November. Of course, I’ve completed well over a dozen books since then, but this one is still a work in progress. I’m making it my goal to finish it this week.
Another oddity of mine is my need to read all the books by an author in the order they were published. Especially if it’s a series. It doesn’t matter if the novels can stand alone; I have to read them in order. I get a bit twitchy if I find out after the fact that I’ve read something out of order. I hate it when people tell me that it doesn’t matter if I read them correctly or not because damnit, to me, it matters. I used to even wait until a series was completed and published before I’d even start to read them, but I’ve gotten over that quirk. Mostly.
I often find myself staying up late to finish a good book. This wouldn’t be weird in and of itself except that when I finish it, I can’t sleep unless I get at least a page into a new book. I hate the feeling of not having moved on to something else. This probably also contributes to the first bit I mentioned – where I sometimes wind up in the midst of more books than any one person should be reading at any one time.
So as you can see, I’m a bit weird about my books. I also don’t get rid of anything in my collection. Not even when it sucks. If it’s awful I just stick it on a shelf out of sight, but I can’t seem to get myself to pass it on. I tried taking part in this really neat project (whose name I can’t remember or I’d link to it) where you’d leave a book in a public place with a note and a link in it telling the finder to read it and pass it on with the same link. When they went to the link they’d find a page where they could register where they found the book. Then you could see how far and how often your book travels. I was able to do it with one book and it hurt. So I stopped. I like to keep my pretties where I can be surrounded by them. I love sitting and reading the familiar titles and figuring out which books I’d like to read next and remember which were good and which were stinkers.
I just love books. What are your weird reading habits?